LIBRARY 

OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT  OF" 

PACIFIC  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY. 


^Accession         ^..9.T.9.  Class 


SOLOMON'S  SOM: 


TKANSLATED    AND    EXPLAINED, 


IN  THREE  PAETS. 


I.    THE  MANUDUCTION.        II.    THE  VERSION, 
m.    THE  SUPPLEMENT. 


BY  LEONARD  WITHINGTON, 

SENIOR  PASTOR  OF   THE   FIRST   CHURCH  IN   NEWBURT,   MASS. 

"  V 

A 
UN1V 

ovdev. 


BOSTON: 
J.    E.    TILTON    AND    COMPANY, 

161    WASHINGTON   STREET. 

18  61. 


~ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1861,  by 

LEONARD    WITHINGTON, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


University  Press,    Cambridge  : 
Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


PREFACE. 


EVERY  new  book  to  be  profitable  asks  a  certain 
degree  of  attention.  But  a  reader  is  not  always 
disposed  to  give  a  new  book  much  attention ; 
and  indeed  it  must  be  allowed,  on  the  strictest 
doctrine  of  chances  and  probabilities,  that  as  an 
hundred  are  to  one,  so  is  the  chance  against  the 
new  claimant.  However,  here  is  a  new  book 
that  humbly  solicits  attention ;  and  let  the  reader 
remember,  if  it  should  not  prove  profitable,  unless 
he  gives  it  the  requisite  attention,  the  fault  may 
not  be  wholly  mine. 


_8459L 


CONTENTS. 


PART   I. 
THE    MANUDUCTION. 

PAGE 

I.  THE  DESIGN 1 

THE  DESIGN  (CONTINUED) 17 

ADVERSE  AUTHORITY 20 

II.  PLACES  IN  SCRIPTURE  WHERE  DIVINE  LOVE  ASSUMES 

THE  FORM  OF  AN  EROTIC  SIMILITUDE      .        .  31 

THE  UNITY 40 

III.  AMATORY  DEVOTION  LN  HEATHEN  LITERATURE  AND  IN 

THE  CHURCH  SINCE  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  APOSTLES     50 
HAPPINESS 70 

IV.  DIVINE    LOVE    AN    INTELLECTUAL    AND   INFORMING 

PASSION 95  " 

V.  THE  DRAMATIC  ELEMENT  IN  INTERPRETING  THE  BIBLE  133  - 

PARTICULAR  APPLICATION 145 

THE  USE  OF  THE  IMAGINATION      .        .        .        .  166 

VI.  THE  DOUBLE  SENSE 171  - 

VII.  METAPHYSICS 187 

EXEMPLIFICATION 205 

THE  EXAMPLE  OF  THE  SACRED  WRITERS     .        .  209 

PART   II. 

THE    VERSION 223 

THE  GOLDEN  SONG  OF  SOLOMON    ....        228 

PART   III. 

THE    SUPPLEMENT 277 

THE  CLAIM  AND  THE  PROOF 304 

THE  CANON  .  313 


PAET    I. 


THE   MANUDUCTION 


THE    MANUDUCTION. 


THE    DESIGN. 

ONE  of  the  first  requisites  to  the  understanding  of 
this  mystic  Song  is  to  see  the  author's  design,  —  "In 
every  work,  regard  the  writer's  end."  The  Bible  is 
too  often  considered  by  the  iieologist  as  a  book  of  frag- 
ments, having  no  moral  unity, —  no  single  design,  no 
divine  design  ;  and  this  injustice  to  the  whole  necessi- 
tates a  greater  injustice  to  all  the  parts,  —  nay,  a  want 
of  perception  of  their  import,  or  beauty.  Every  part  of 
an  arch  rests  on  the  key-stone.  The  history  of  the  king- 
dom of  God  may  be  considered  as  one  great  drama, 
terminating  in  the  triumph  of  grace  over  sin,  and  good 
over  evil.  "  Behold  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men, 
and  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his  peo- 
ple, and  God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their 
God.  And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 
eyes ;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow, 
nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain ;  for 
the  former  things  are  passed  away." 

No  book  has  suffered  more  than  this  Song  from  the 

i  w84591      A 


2  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

want  of  seeing  the  design.  There  is  a  twofold  want. 
First,  a  want  of  seeing  the  design  of  the  whole  work 
of  revelation  ;  and  secondly,  a  want  of  seeing  the  design 
of  this  particular  book,  and  its  harmony  with  the  whole. 
Let  us  then  point  out,  first,  its  probable 

HISTORIC  ORIGIN  ; 

and  this  may  help  us  to  the  moral  design. 

That  the  book  was  written  by  Solomon,  I  shall  as- 
sume ;  for  there  is  no  end  to  that  destructive  criticism 
which  whispers  suspicions  of  a  later  origin.  Even  the 
Pentateuch  itself  has  not  escaped  the  daring  innova- 
tors ;  and  Aramseanisms,  or  later  forms  of  Hebrew,  are 
found  in  the  earliest  books  of  the  Bible.  The  neolo- 
gists  prove  that  nothing  is  or  can  be  ancient.  I  must 
be  allowed  to  say,  without  depreciating  any  man's 
Oriental  learning,  that  I  cannot  conceive  of  a  degree 
of  familiarity  with  any  of  these  languages,  which  have 
been  dead  for  many  centuries,  which  can  justify  a  critic 
in  such  bold  censures  as  they  undertake  to  pronounee.* 

*  Dr.  Noyes,  after  giving  several  instances  of  alleged  Aramaeanism, 
comes  to  this  very  judicious  conclusion  :  "  From  these  and  other  instances, 
Gesenius,  De  Wette,  and  Umbreit  have  referred  the  Book  of  Job  to  the  time 
of  the  captivity,  —  a  period  assigned  to  it  by  Le  Clerc,  Warburton,  Heath, 
Garnet,  and  Rabbi  Jochanan,  among  the  older  critics.  But  from  the  few 
remains  of  Hebrew  literature  that  have  come  down  to  us,  and  our  imper- 
fect acquaintance  with  the  history  of  language,  it  follows  that  it  is  by  no 
means  certain  that  the  words  and  forms  above  mentioned  may  not  have 
been  in  use  in  some  parts  of  Judasa  before  the  time  of  the  captivity.  $,  as 
a  prefix,  occurs  in  the  Book  of  Judges.  See  vi.  17."  —  Preface  to  Job. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  O 

They  cut  here  and  slash  there,  until  the  whole  forest 
of  antiquity  is  levelled  to  the  ground.  Indeed,  I  can- 
not conceive  of  any  language,  which  is  not  vernacular, 
being  so  critically  known  to  a  man  as  to  justify  him 
in  upsetting  all  tradition,  and  saying  he  finds  modern- 
isms in  every  page.  Dr.  Bentley,  in  his  dissertation  on 
the  Epistles  of  Phalaris,  speaks  very  modestly  of  the 
modernisms  he  discovers  in  those  Epistles,  and  places 
the  chief  evidence  of  their  forgery  on  the  anachronisms 
which  he  everywhere  discovers.  Besides,  suppose  there 
are  real  Aramaeisms,  is  recency  of  authorship  the  only 
way  in  which  they  can  be  accounted  for  ?  We  are  told 
in  the  sacred  history,  that  Solomon  "  spake  three  thou- 
sand proverbs,  and  his  songs  were  a  thousand  and  five," 
(1  Kings  iv.  32,)  and  why  may  not  this  be  one  of  them  ? 
Who  more  likely  to  produce  it,  than  he  of  whom  it  is 
said,  there  came  of  "  all  people  to  hear  the  wisdom  of 
Solomon,  from  all  the  kings  of  the  earth,  which  had 
heard  of  his  wisdom"?  There  is  no  end  to  this  learned 
scepticism  ;  and  truth  would  always  be  found  by  these 
sagacious  divers,  were  she  always  certain  to  conceal 
herself  in  the  bottom  of  a  well.  They  are  sure  to 
miss  her  when  she  is  on  the  surface. 

Nor  can  I  possibly  agree  with  those  who  regard  this 
book  as  a  COLLECTION  of  songs.  The  remarks  of  Rosen- 
miiller  are  on  this  point  excellent.  "  That  this  book," 
he  says,  "  contains  one  connected  song,  was  never  ques- 
tioned until  Richard  Simon  called  it  into  doubt,  by 


4  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

saying  it  was  a  collection  of  various  minor  poems  by 
various  authors  ;  and  since  his  day  the  same  hypothesis 
has  been  adopted  by  distinguished  critics  ;  the  book, 
according  to  these  critics,  is  a  collection  of  amatory 
songs,  having  no  unity  but  the  common  subject,  like 
the  Book  of  Psalms,  or  the  Book  of  Proverbs."  But. 
as  Rosenmiiller  says,  there  is  no  vestige  in  the  book  of 
this  variety,  —  nulla  tamen  tumultuariae  congestionis 
vestigia.  It  is  everywhere  a  continued  dialogue  of  the 
same  speakers,  in  the  same  style,  on  the  same  subject. 
The  unity  is  complete  ;  and  the  man  who  finds  this 
variety  must  do  as  a  man  who  breaks  a  glass  vase,  and 
then  complains  that  he  only  finds  a  collection  of  frag- 
ments. The  only  plausibility  that  such  a  theory  can 
have  must  arise  from  a  peculiarity  which  pervades  all 
Hebrew  poetry ;  namely,  the  rapid  transitions  by  which 
a  primitive  people  leave  the  reader  to  supply  the  inter- 
stices of  their  thoughts.  The  transition  of  such  writers 
is  always  rapid ;  and  if  every  break  indicates  a  new 
subject  and  a  new  author,  there  is  no  end  to  the  va- 
riety which  bad  taste  and  daring  speculation  may  every- 
where find.  Following  these  ancient,  simple  writers 
is  not  like  walking  in  the  gravelled  paths  of  a  garden, 
trodden  down  by  art  and  consolidated  by  the  roller, 
but  like  walking  over  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps,  where 
you  must  leap  many  a  chasm,  and  where  you  are  an 
unskilful  traveller  if  the  first  interruption  stops  your 
way.  The  frost  in  these  haggard  regions  will  not  im- 
itate the  nicety  of  an  artist  in  his  studio. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  5 

The  want  of  tact  in  discerning  the  difference  be- 
tween a  rapid  transition  (such  as  constitutes  the  char- 
acter and  beauty  of  primitive  poetry)  has  led  Rosen- 
miiller  himself,  in  that  beautiful  break  in  the  nineteenth 
Psalm,  ver.  7,  to  find  a  new  subject.  "  Mihi  tamen  ea 
carminis  pars,  quae  inde  a  versus  et  decurrit,  parum 
apte  cum  reliqua  videtur  cohaerere.  Ea  vero  in  utraque 
rerum  et  verborum  est  dissimilitude,  ut  nullus  dubitem, 
duo  diversa  carmina,  aut  certe  diversoruin  carmiiiuni 
particulas,  quorum  unum  virtu  tern  Jehovae  ex  opificio 
coelorum  mire  relucentem,  alterum  legum  divinarum 
praestantiam  et  excellentiam  celebraret,  casu  vel  consilio 
in  hoc  uno  esse  conjuncta,  quae  proinde  a  nobis  erunt 
sejungenda."  But  surely  there  never  was  a  more  beau- 
tiful unity  than  this  Psalm  presents,  or  a  more  beau- 
tiful transition.  How  natural  that  the  works  of  God 
should  suggest  the  clearer  revelation  of  his  Word,  and 
that  the  same  ode  should  present  the  harmony  of 
both ! 

That  this  »book  should  be  regarded  as  a  collection 
of  fragments,  is  one  of  the  most  baseless  visions  that 
ever  entered  a  mind  darkened  by  its  own  ingenuity. 
Never  was  there  a  book  that  had  greater  unity.  It  is 
all  about  the  same  pair,  Solomon  and  Solomitis.  The 
style  is  the  same  ;  the  subject  is  the  same  ;  and  the 
whole  impression  is  unique.  The  fragments  must  be 
made  by  the  fragmentary  mind  that  reads  it. 

The  best  way  to  discover  the  moral  design  of  this 


6  THE  MANUDUCTTON. 

book  is  to  consider  its  historical  origin.  We  must  en- 
deavor to  state  to  ourselves  the  circumstances  under 
which  its  design  was  suggested  and  its  form  arose.  It 
is  pretty  clear  that  most  of  the  Psalms,  and  many  of 
the  prophecies,  had  an  occasional  and  temporary  appli- 
cation ;  and  that  the  local  event  was  an  interpreter  to 
the  ultimate  design.  The  analogy  of  one  to  the  other 
was  often  very  striking  and  instructive.  Now  this 
principle,  sanctioned  by  so  many  examples,  we  pro- 
pose to  apply  in  explaining  the  design  of  this  difficult 
poem. 

We  know  from  the  sacred  history,  that  Solomon,  in 
his  high  glory,  made  affinity,  not  only  with  equal 
kings,  as  the  king  of  Egypt,  but  also  with  the  rural 
chiefs  and  sheiks  of  the  tribes  around  him.  We  are 
told  expressly  (1  Kings  xi.)  :  "  But  King  Solomon  loved 
many  strange  women "  (i.  e.  foreigners),  "  together 
with  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh,  women  of  the  Moabites, 
Ammonites,  Edomites,  Zidonians,  and  Hittites ;  of  the 
nations  concerning  which  the  Lord  said  unto  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel,  Ye  shall  not  go  in  to  them,  neither  shall 
they  come  in  unto  you  ;  for  surely  they  will  turn  away 
your  heart  after  their  gods.  Solomon  clave  unto  these 
in  love."  Now  we  must  remember  that  all  these  na- 
tions, except  the  Zidonians,  were  pastoral  and  rural 
nations,  very  much  below  the  Israelites  in  the  scale  of 
civilization  in  the  golden  days  of  Solomon.  I  cannot 
think  that  the  bride  in  this  song  is  Pharaoh's  daugh- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  7 

ter,  though  Lowth  and  other  learned  critics  have  coun- 
tenanced this  opinion.  The  Solomeith  or  Solomitis 
of  this  Song  is  everywhere  a  rural  lass,  having  that 
mixture  of  rusticity  and  refinement  which  marks  the 
daughter  of  some  sheik, — just  such  qualities  as  would 
now  characterize  an  Arab  princess.  "  How  beautiful 
are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  0  prince's  daughter!  "  (vii.  1.) 
"  I  am  black,  but  comely  ; "  that  is,  a  handsome  bru- 
nette, (i.  5.)  "  I  am  the  rose  of  Sharon,"  i.  e.  a  mod- 
est autumnal  flower,  and  u  the  lily  of  the  valley,"  i.  e. 
a  beautiful  flower  growing  in  a  humble  place,  (ii.  1.) 
She  sleeps  under  the  trees  ;  "  our  bed  is  green ;  the 
beams  of  our  house  are  cedar,  and  our  rafters  are  fir." 
(i.  16,  17.)  She  is  made  keeper  of  a  vineyard,  and  fol- 
lows a  flock,  and  the  more  polished  daughters  of  Jeru- 
salem are  jealous  of  her  ;  in  a  word,  she  speaks  like  a 
polished,  rural  lass.  Now  if  we  put  the  hints  of  his- 
tory and  of  the  book  together,  we  may  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  Solomon,  in  spreading  his  peaceful 
empire,  made  affinity  with  some  of  the  Arab  tribes 
around  him.  He  did  it  from  a  partial  wish  of  spreading 
the  Hebrew  empire  and  religion  through  the  vicinity. 
He  did  not  aim  to  conquer  by  war,  but  by  affinity  ;  he 
wished  to  cement  a  glorious  empire  ;  it  is  true,  that 
afterwards  his  idolatrous  wives  turned  away  his  heart ; 
but  such,  probably,  was  not  his  first  intention.  Noth: 
ing  is  more  natural  than  that,  when  we  mix  too  much 
expediency  in  our  designs  to  spread  religion,  the  evil 


8  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

should  eat  out  the  good.  I  suppose  Solomon  might 
have  a  mixed  motive  ;  it  was  one  of  those  cases  where 
his  own  wisdom  might  deceive  him ;  his  folly  was  not 
the  folly  of  a  fool,  and  I  cannot  imagine  any  other 
reason  for  his  vast  number  of  wives  and  concubines. 
"  And  he  had  seven  hundred  wives,  princesses,"  (mark 
the  word  !)  "  and  three  hundred  concubines :  and  his 
wives  turned  away  his  heart.  For  it  came  to  pass 
when  Solomon  was  old,"  (mark  again,)  "that  his  wives 
turned  away  his  heart  after  other  gods ;  and  his  heart 
was  not  perfect "  (mark  again)  "  with  the  Lord  his  God, 
as  was  the  heart  of  David  his  father.  For  Solomon 
went  after  Ashtoreth,  the  goddess  of  the  Zidonians, 
and  after  Milcom,  the  abomination  of  the  Ammonites. 
And  Solomon  did  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and 
went  not  fully  after  the  Lord,  as  did  David  his  father. 
Then  did  Solomon  build  up  an  high  place  for  Che- 
mosh,  the  abomination  of  Moab,  in  the  hill  that  is  be- 
fore Jerusalem,  and  for  Molech,  the  abomination  of  the 
children  of  Ammon.  And  likewise  did  he  for  all  his 
strange  wives,  which  burnt  incense  and  sacrificed  unto 
their  gods."  (1  Kings  xi.  3-8.)  Several  things  may  be 
here  noticed.  First,  the  vast  number  of  his  wives,  be- 
yond all  the  purposes  of  sensuality,  —  one  thousand !  — 
and  I  fancy  some  of  them  found  their  houses  more  of 
the  convent  than  the  seraglio.  No  doubt  the  purpose 
was  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  splendid  kingdom.  Sec- 
ondly, it  will  be  noticed  that  the  seven  hundred  wives 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  9 

were  princesses  ;  now  the  very  number  shows  they  did 
not  belong  to  great  kingdoms,  like  Egypt ;  they  must 
have  been  princesses  in  the  little  tribes  around  Pales- 
tine.    Thirdly,  it  will  be  noticed  that  Solomon  is  not 
totally  condemned  :  "  They  turned  away  his  heart ;  it 
came  to  pass  when  Solomon  was  old,  that  his  wives," 
&c.     "  He  went  not  fully  after  the  Lord,  like  David  his 
father  ;  "  "his  heart  was  not  perfect  with  the  Lord  his 
God,"  <fec.     It  seems  very  probable,  therefore,  that  at 
first  his  intention  might  have  been  good,  or  at  least  he 
thought  so  ;  he  wished  to  establish  a  great  kingdom  ; 
he  was  not  a  man  of  war  ;   he  must  do  it   by  other 
arts,  —  the  arts  of  peace  ;    he  bound  the  rural  tribes 
around  him  to  himself  by  his  multiplied  affinities ;  — 
none  but  the  best  and  worst  men  act  from  single  mo- 
tives.   Solomon  was  a  mingled  character ;  his  great  wis- 
dom sometimes  marred  the  simplicity  of  his  piety.    Now^_ 
putting  these  things  together,  I  suppose  that  he  wooed 
and  won  some  beautiful  daughter  of  some  neighboring 
sheik,  —  perhaps  for  the  first  time  ;    the  thing  made  a 
great  noise  in  Jerusalem  ;  the  fathers  were  alarmed, 
and  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  were  jealous.     Some- 
times he  carried  his  rustic  bride,  his  autumnal  flower, 
his  lily  of  the  valley,  up  to  Jerusalem,  where  she  com- 
plains :  "  The  watchmen  that  went  about  the  city  found 
me,  they  smote  me,  they  wounded  me  :  the  keepers  of 
the  wall  took  away  my  veil  from  me."     And  sometimes 
Solomon  himself  went  down  to  rusticate  in  her  country, 


10  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

to  spend  part  of  the  summer ;  the  wild  cliffs  were  as 
sweet  to  the  king  as  the  polished  houses  of  Jerusa- 
lem were  to  the  bride.  "  0  my  dove,  that  art  in  the 
clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  place  of  the  stairs,  let 
me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice ;  for 
sweet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely. 
Take  us  the  foxes,  the  little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines, 
for  our  vines  have  tender  grapes."  (ii.  14,  15.)  These 
alternations  are  presented  throughout  the  whole  poem. 
Such,  then,  is  the  HISTORICAL  ORIGIN  of  this  beautiful 
work.  King  Solomon  chooses  some  foreign  bride  ;  he 
deviates  from  the  customs  and  laws  of  his  country ; 
his  conduct  excites  great  attention,  and  produces  great 
commotion  in  Jerusalem.  But  a  popular  king  has  his 
own  privileges  ;  his  intentions  are  for  good,  though  not 
legal,  and  he  writes  this  poem  to  show  how  pure  his 
felicity,  how  happy  his  marriage  with  a  rural  bride, 
taken  from  a  Pagan  nation,  whom,  nevertheless,  he 
brings  under  the  influence  of  the  true  religion,  and 
hopes  to  convert  to  the  true  faith,  and  make  one  of 
the  instruments  of  promoting  the  glory  of  his  peace- 
ful kingdom. 

But  we  are  told  in  Judges  xiv.  4,  that,  when  Sam- 
son went  down  to  Timnath,  and  saw  a  woman  in  Tim- 
nath  of  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines,  and  wished  to 
have  her  for  a  wife,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  her  fa- 
ther and  mother,  "  his  father  and  his  mother  knew  not 
that  the  thing  was  of  the  Lord."  So  in  this  case,  the 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  11 

occasional  song  was  exalted  by  the  providence  of  God 
into  a  higher  purpose.  That  purpose  was -mainly  and 
primarily  to  foreshow  the  formation  and  union  of  the 
Gentile  Church  with  Christ,  when  a  more  sublime  and 
spiritual  religion  should  be  presented.  Of  course,  in 
this  purpose,  as  a  unity,  many  constituents  are  in- 
volved ;  for  example,  a  higher  religion,  a  higher  class 
of  saints,  the  union  of  the  soul  with  Christ,  —  all  of 
which  I  consider  not  as  separate  items,  but  all  involved 
in  the  great  idea.  There  is  to  be  a  religion  (such  is  the 
spirit  of  the  book)  which,  uniting  the  soul  with  its  Sav- 
iour in  a  nobler  life,  is  to  bring  the  Gentiles  under  its 
influence,  and  have  power  enough  to  spread  through 
the  earth.  For  this  opinion  we  should  adduce  several 
reasons.  First,  the  perfect  analogy  between  the  his- 
torical fact  and  the  spiritual  signification.  If  Solomon 
hoped  to  spread  his  kingdom  by  these  marriages,  the 
first  bride  was  not  only  a  type,  but  an  actual  specimen, 
of  the  signification  looked  for.  Secondly,  there  is  a 
perfect  consonance  between  this  view  and  the  occa- 
sional signification  of  other  places  in  the  Psalms  and 
prophecies.  They  often  have  an  historical  origin,  and 
a  sublime  future  import,  as,  in  the  seventy-second,  the 
reign  of  Solomon  and  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  This  is 
the  general  method ;  when  the  neologists  say  that  what- 
ever is  great  and  splendid  about  temporal  things  in 
the  Old  Testament  was  applied  by  the  later  Jews  to  the 
Messiah  and  his  kingdom,  they  only  pervert  and  misuse 


12,  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

a  fact,  which  is  the  occasional  signal  of  the  great  de- 
sign. Thirdly,  this  Book  would  scarcely  have  had  a 
place  in  the  sacred  canon,  if  the  authors  of  that  canon, 
whoever  they  might  be,  had  believed  it  to  be  a  mere 
love-song ;  it  would  have  been  like  introducing  the 
image  of  Bacchus  or  Silenus  into  their  holy  temple. 
On  this  point  one  of  their  own  Kabbis  has  spoken, — 
Aben-Esra.  "  Absit,  absit  ut  Canticum  Canticorum  de 
amore  carnali  agat,  sed  omnia  figurate  in  eo  dicantur. 
Nisi  enim  maxima  ejus  dignitas  esset,  in  sacrorum 
librorum  corpus  non  fuisset  relatum,  neque  de  eo  ulla 
est  controversial'  To  which  Rosenmiiller  adds,  that 
the  whole  character  and  design  of  the  sacred  books  for- 
bid the  supposition  that  a  song  which  sung  the  loves 
of  a  man  and  a  woman  should  be  numbered  among 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament.  When  we  read  the 
following  verse  in  the  Book  of  Hymns  by  Dr.  Watts, 
we  have  no  hesitation,  from  its  place,  to  allow  its 
subject  and  design,  though  the  words  may  seem  am- 
biguous :  — 

"Let  my  beloved  come  and  taste 
His  pleasant  fruits  at  his  own  feast; 
I  come,  my  spouse ;  I  come,  he  cries, 
With  love  and  pleasure  in  his  eyes." 

And  the  same  reasoning  applies  to  this  book.  It 
stands  rank  and  file  amidst  the  solemnities  of  reve- 
lation. This  circumstance  has  in  fact  decided  the 
Church,  at  the  least  the  vast  majority  of  it,  to  receive 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  13 

the  book  in  its  mystical  import ;  and  the  fact  is  signifi- 
cant ;  it  was  the  decision  of  unconscious  reason,  which 
the  public  mind  could  not  resist.  It  is  one  of  those 
conclusions  that  we  adopt  before  we  have  analyzed  its 
force.  We  do  not  expect  the  levity  in  a  Greek  chorus 
which  we  find  in  an  Anacreontic  song.  But  there  is 
another  reason.  Fourthly,  the  poor,  barren  meaning 
that  emerges,  if  the  allegoric  is  not  taken.  A  very  pe- 
culiar choice  meets  us, — the  great  or  the  little;  the  sub- 
lime or  the  ridiculous  ;  the  most  exalted  devotion  or  the 
meanest  sensuality.  On  this  point  even  the  comment 
of  Grotius  is  instructive ;  he  rejects  the  spiritual  mean- 
ing, and  where  does  he  fall  ?  He  shows  the  melancholy 
consequence  of  not  catching  the  note  of  inspiration  from 
its  celestial  harp.  I  hardly  dare  to  state  the  import 
which  this  great  critic  gives  to  this  sacred  book.  In 
searching  for  the  latent  meaning  of  this  book,  we  are 
reminded  of  the  epitaph  mentioned  in  Gil  Bias, — 
"  Here  is  interred  the  soul  of  the  Licentiate  Peter 
Garcias."  The  pert  coxcomb  laughed  at  the  absurd- 
ity of  supposing  a  soul  interred  in  a  grave  ;  but  his 
wiser  companion  fathomed  the  mystery  and  found  the 
treasure. 

But,  fifthly,  the  place  the  book  supplies  in  meeting 
the  wants  of  a  certain  class  of  readers,  perhaps  I  may 
say,  in  some  degree,  of  all  mankind.  Who  does  not 
know  that  one  great  problem  always  before  the  awak- 
ened and  anxious  mind  is,  How  shall  I  get  the  will 


14  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

to  conquer  my  corruption  ?  How  shall  I  shake  off 
those  evil  propensities,  which,  like  iron  chains,  fasten 
my  soul  down  to  earth  and  transgression  ?  To  be 
saved  I  must  be  willing  to  be  saved;  but  how  shall  I 
get  that  will  ?  You  tell  me  that  religion  is  a  cure 
for  all  sorrow  and  sin;  that  it  is  easy, — "the  yoke  is 
easy  and  the  burden  is  light."  But  you  contradict 
my  experience.  It  is  vain  to  tell  me  of  the  reason- 
ableness of  religion ;  the  human  passions  are  not 
reasonable, —  mine  are  not;  and  I  turn  like  a  door 
on  its  hinges,  and  yet  never  get  separated  from 
my  own  selfishness.  Such  are  the  complaints  I  have 
heard  from  hundreds  of  sinners.  Now,  to  such  a 
mind  how  impressive,  how  instructive  it  must  be  to 
know  that  there  is  a  form  of  religion  where  even  the 
struggle  is  lost  in  the  perception  of  celestial  beauty 
and  the  free,  spontaneous  love  which  arises  from  it ! 
There  are  attainments  in  religion  where  it  ceases  to 
be  an  effort, —  duty  is  lost  in  delight;  Christ  is  seen 
and  his  drawings  are  felt ;  the  whole  soul  is  borne 
on  a  new  current.  Let  us  seek  an  illustration.  Yon- 
der is  a  barge  entering  the  harbor ;  the  tide  is 
against  her,  and  the  wind  is  contrary.  How  they 
toil  at  the  oars,  and  how  little  is  their  headway  ! 
But  suddenly  the  tide  turns  and  the  wind  changes ; 
they  spread  their  sails,  and  enter  the  harbor  with 
streamers  flying  and  with  triumphant  speed.  "  I  went 
down  into  the  garden  of  nuts  to  see  the  fruits  of  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  15 

valley,  and  to  see  whether  the  vine  flourished  and  the 
pomegranates  budded ;  or  ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul 
made  me  like  the  chariots  of  Amminadib."  (vi. 
11,  12.) 

To  the  Christian,  too,  the  lesson  is  important.  We 
begin  religion  in  a  violent  struggle  with  our  own  evil 
propensities.  It  is  a  most  discouraging  combat,  and 
our  frequent  failures  plunge  us  almost  into  despair. 
Some  of  the  strongest  expressions  are  used  in  the 
New  Testament  to  describe  this  painful  conflict.  It 
is  plucking  out  the  right  eye,  tearing  off  the  right 
hand ;  it  is  a  crucifixion  ;  it  is  taking  up  the  cross 
daily ;  it  drives  us  to  the  most  agonizing  prayer. 
How  delightful  it  must  be  to  know  that  when  the 
renovated  will,  feeble  at  first,  has  done  its  part,  a 
time  will  come,  when,  if  we  are  faithful  in  the  strug- 
gle, the  will  must  give  place  to  the  whole  powers 
of  the  heart.  There  will  be  no  struggle,  no  con- 
flict, no  cross.  Indeed,  the  great  secret  in  religion 
is,  to  have  a  clear  perception  of  the  celestial  bride- 
groom, and  to  have  the  heart  in  a  corresponding 
state.  Strauss  says  that  Christ  is  a  principle,  and  I 
believe  it.  He  is  a  principle  and  person  too ;  and  he 
is  the  more  a  principle  because  he  is  a  person  ;  and 
Dr.  Young  was  more  than  a  poet  when  he  said : 

"  Talk  they  of  morals,  —  0  thou  bleeding  Love ! 
Thou  Maker  of  new  morals  for  mankind, 
The  grand  morality  is  love  to  thee." 


16  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

But,  sixthly,  I  think  this  must  have  been  the  ori- 
gin and  the  signification  of  this  song ;  that  is,  its 
sublime  meaning  grew  out  of  its  historical  origin, 
from  the  fact  that  all  the  Pagan  nations  had  similar 
ideas,  and  God,  in  thus  signifying  his  will  to  his 
people,  only  employed  the  universal  language.  The 
Pagans  regarded  all  nature  as  one  great  sympathetic 
system,  indicating  by  the  informing  spirit  future 
events.  The  flight  of  a  bird,  the  motion  of  a  ser- 
pent, the  form  of  a  cloud,  the  speaking  of  an  ox, 
the  voice  of  thunder,  stumbling  at  the  threshold, 
were  all  omens.  Nature  was  everywhere  sensitive 
and  significant.  We  are  told  by  Tacitus  that  the 
Germans  were  accustomed  to  set  a  captive  of  the 
nation  with  which  they  were  at  war  and  one  of  their 
own  people  at  single  combat,  and  judge  by  the 
event  the  fate  of  the  war.  What  is  this  but  the 
same  principle, —  a  portentous  incident  foretelling  a 
great  result  ?  How  much  more  would  the  Jews,  from 
their  remarkable  theocracy,  be  led  to  judge  in  the 
same  way ;  and  how  credible  is  it  that  God  should 
use  such  means  to  signify  his  will.  The  Bath  Col — 
the  voice  among  the  Jews  —  was  founded  on  the 
same  principle. 

Lastly,  the  unmistakable  authority  of  the  Apostles 
sanctions  the  same  principle.  But  on  this  point  we 
shall  not  at  present  enlarge. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  17 


THE    DESIGN    (CONTINUED). 

There  naturally,  then,  grows  out  of  the  historical 
origin  this  spiritual  design.  As  it  has  been  forci- 
bly remarked  that  the  Psalms  were  written  to  show 
us,  after  reading  the  continual  ritualism  of  the  books 
of  Moses,  that  there  was  a  spiritual  power  in  the 
old  religion,  so  this  book  seems  to  have  been  written 
to  show  us  the  ultimate  spirit  of  the  true  Church. 
When  religion  was  ritual  in  its  dress,  it  was  sec- 
tional in  its  character.  Circumcision,  for  example, 
confined  it  to  the  Hebrews.  But  the  idea  of  an 
enlarged  Church  was  connected  with  a  refined  relig- 
ion. The  higher  spirit  of  religion  was  all-embracing. 
The  affinity  of  Solomon  with  some  Arab  princes  was 
made  the  occasion  of  showing  a  Gentile  Church  and 
a  purer  faith.  The  lessons  of  this  book  are,  first, 
that  there  is  something  in  religion  which  no  words  can 
teach.  It  transcends  the  power  of  language.  It  can 
be  felt  only  by  a  bursting  heart.  It  is  life.  "  My 
soul  breaketh  for  the  longing  it  hath."  Secondly,  love 
is  this  transcendent  spirit,  —  supersensual  love.  But, 
thirdly,  not  blind  love ;  love  arising  from  the  per- 
ception of  celestial  beauty ;  distinct  from  delusion, 
because  founded  on  truth.  Fourthly,  this  passion 
and  perception  are  mysteriously  interlocked ;  we  can- 
not say  which  is  cause  and  which  consequence.  We 

B 


18  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

may  say  the  perception  of  the  beauty  produces  the 
love,  and  the  love,  or  at  least  the  disposition  to  love, 
produces  the  perception.  Here  is  an  involution  which 
no  mental  analysis  can  unfold ;  and  this  book  pre- 
sents the  two  poles  of  this  electric  tide ;  to  our  expe- 
rience they  come  together,  but  we  cannot  tell  which 
is  cause  and  which  eifect,  which  is  prior  either  in 
time  or  in  nature.  Fifthly,  the  mystic  union  with 
Christ ;  what  is  it  ?  Here  it  is  shown  as  it  must 
be  shown  in  the  emotional.  Sixthly,  there  is  a  higher 
class  of  saints  ;  — 

"  They  scorn  to  seek  our  golden  toys, 

But  spend  the  day  and  share  the  night 
In  numbering  o'er  the  richer  joys 

That  Heaven  prepares  for  their  delight; 
While  wretched  we,  like  worms  and  moles, 
Lie  grovelling  in  the  dust  below." 

Seventhly,  piety,  owning  its  origin,  tends  to  its  end. 
Religion  begins  in  severe  struggles ;  it  is  a  period  of 
conflict.  Augustine  has  stated  the  difficulty,  and  in 
part  solved  the  mystery.  "  Unde  hoc  monstrum,  et 
quare  istud  ?  Imperat  animus  corpori  et  paretur  sta- 
tim ;  imperat  animus  sibi  et  resistitur.  Imperat  ani- 
mus, ut  moveatur  manus,  et  tanta  est  facilitas,  ut 
vix  a  servitio  discernitur  imperium ;  et  animus  animus 
est,  manus  autem  corpus  est.  Imperat  animus,  ut 
velit  animus,  nee  alter  est,  nee  facit  tamen.  Unde 
hoc  monstrum,  et  quare  istud  ?  Imperat,  unquam 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  19 

ut  velit,  qui  non  imperat,  nisi  vellet ;  et  non  fit, 
quod  imperat.  Sed  non  ex  toto  vult ;  non  ergo  ex 
toto  imperat."  (Confess.,  Lib.  VIII.  c.  9.)  "  Whence 
this  wonder,  and  how  does  it  come  ?  The  mind  com- 
mands the  body,  and  is  immediately  obeyed ;  the  will 
commands  itself,  and  is  resisted.  The  mind  com- 
mands the  hand  to  move  ;  and  such  is  the  facility  of 
the  obedience  that  we  hardly  discern  the  command- 
ing from  the  servile  power.  The  mind  is  mind,  the 
hand  is  body.  The  mind  commands  according  to  its 
own  will,  and  yet  does  not  obey  itself.  Whence  this 
wonder,  and  how  does  it  arise?  That  power  com- 
mands by  its  will  whose  whole  province  is  to  will, 
and  yet,  itself  commanding  itself,  the  deed  is  not 
done ;  and  the  reason  is,  the  will  is  not  entire  ;  the 
command  is  not  from  the  whole  heart."  Now,  in  all 
these  struggles,  it  is  delightful  to  know  the  higher, 
spontaneous  state  to  which  every  successful  struggle 
tends ;  and  how  important  it  is  to  get  those  percep- 
tions by  which  the  whole  power  of  Christ  rushes  on 
the  soul.  0,  there  is  a  flame  that  burns  up  our 
dross,  and  the  will  has  scarce  anything  to  do ;  it  has 
sunk  back  and  is  lost  in  governing  love.  Lastly, 
this  book  shows  that  felicity  is  the  gratification  of 
celestial  love.  When  an  Almighty  Saviour  becomes 
tho  bridegroom,  heaven,  earth,  and  sea,  the  stars 
and  the  sky,  become  the  marriage-chamber,  and  all 
the  works  of  nature  glow  with  the  consummation. 


20  THE  MANUDUCTION. 


ADVERSE    AUTHORITY. 

Some  light  may  be  thrown  on  this  book  by  con- 
sidering the  objections  which  critics  of  great  learning 
and  sagacity  have  made  to  its  spiritual  meaning. 

My  object  in  selecting  some  of  those  critics  who 
have  made  the  most  forcible  objections,  is  not  to 
depreciate  them,  but  to  answer  their  objections.  A 
feigned  objection  of  an  advocate  of  any  opinion  is 
never  so  forcible  as  one  brought  by  a  competent 
opponent.  I  shall  select  the  learned  Professor  in  the 
Divinity  School  at  Cambridge  as  the  impersonation 
of  that  rigid  criticism  which  forgets  almost  all  the 
glowing  elements  of  sacred  poetry  in  the  artificial 
laws  that  surround  the  lecturer's  chair,  —  laws  which 
light  the  lamp  to  forget  the  sunshine.  I  select  him 
only  as  a  representative  man. 

Dr.  Noyes  says,  in  his  Preface  to  the  Canticles : 
"  The  decisive  objection,  which  applies  in  nearly  an 
equal  degree  to  all  these  theories,  is,  that  there  is  no 
mention,  or  even  intimation,  in  the  work  itself,  of 
that  which  they  say  is  its  great  and  principal  sub- 
ject." And  again :  "  The  only  persons  introduced 
into  it  are  human.  There  is  not  a  sentence,  or  part 
of  a  sentence,  which,  according  to  the  common  use  of 
language,  expresses  any  religious  idea.  This  is  the 
decisive  consideration  with  me.  The  author  has  in 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  21 

no   way  indicated  that  he  uses  language  in  any  but 
the  obvious  and  usual   sense." 

To  this  I  have  two  answers.  First,  conceding 
the  fact,  I  should  not  dare  to  adopt  the  con- 
clusion ;  for  you  must  sanction  this  canon  of  criti- 
cism, that  there  is  never  an  allegory  or  vTrovoia, 
under-meaning,  but  when  the  sacred  writers  ex- 
pressly reveal  the  literal.  Now  it  is  nowhere  said, 
in  Old  Testament  or  New,  that  the  tempter  in  Eden 
was  the  Devil,  and  yet  the  analogy  is  so  perfect  to 
the  after-revealed  character  of  the  Devil,  and  the 
history  is  so  mean  and  childish  without  this  suppo- 
sition, that  all  ages  have  concluded  to  adopt  the 
indicated  meaning.  We  shake  the  whole  grandeur 
of  revelation,  the  whole  framework  of  divine  truth, 
unless  we  say  the  concealed  meaning  is  the  true 
one.  So  with  regard  to  the  sacrifices  of  the  Law,  it 
is  nowhere  said  in  the  Old  Testament  that  they 
point  to  Christ.  But,  as  the  author  of  Hebrews 
says,  "  the  Law  is  a  shadow  of  good  things  to 
come."  We  adopt  the  necessary  conclusion.  We 
take  the  sublimer  view.  Sometimes  a  sentiment  is 
expressed  by  an  unexplained  figure,  as  in  Job  iv. 
10,  11 :  "  Rugitus  leonis  ejusque  fremitus  obmutuit 
et  dentes  leoiium  excussi  sunt.  Periit  leo  praedae 
inopia  ejusque  catuli  sunt  dispersi "  ;  that  is,  the 
strongest  human  power  is  often  dispersed  and  broken. 
In  the  last  chapters  of  Ezekiel,  the  building  of  the 


22  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

•visionary  temple,  and  in  the  whole  book  of  Revela- 
tion, we  are  left  to  solve  by  our  sagacity  imagery 
which  the  author  has  nowhere  explained  ;  so  that  if 
we  were  to  grant  that  in  Solomon's  Song  the  prin- 
cipal subject,  as  understood  by  the  allegorist,  does 
not  appear,  it  would  not  follow  from  Biblical  usage 
that  it  did  not  exist. 

But,  secondly,  is  there  no  intimation  of  the  under- 
meaning  ?  I  must  contend  that  there  is.  It  is  inten- 
tionally shown  under  the  veil.  In  the  fourth  verse, 
"  The  upright  love  thee,"  —  Probi  te  amant.  What 
can  this  mean  but  the  literal  ?  The  author  wavers 
from  his  allegory.  So  in  iv.  4, — 

'*  Thy  neck  is  like  the  tower  of  David, 
Built  for  an  armory  ; 
In  which  there  hang  a  thousand  bucklers, 
All  shields  of  mighty  men," — 

and  in  v.  13-15,  and  in  vii.  2-7,  the  comparison 
is  too  extravagant  for  a  literal  personage.  It  inti- 
mates its  deeper  meaning.  As  in  Psalm  Ixxii.  the 
magnificence  of  the  imagery  teaches  to  look  beyond 
Solomon,  to  a  Divine  Saviour  and  a  spiritual  king- 
dom, so  in  this  imagery  the  author  seems  to  hint 
at  more  than  a  mortal  lover.  We  must  charge  him 
with  the  greatest  extravagance,  or  we  must  own  his 
high  design.  But  the  passage  which  seems  to 'me 
the  clearest,  considered  as  an  intentional  clew  to 
the  under-meaning,  is  in  the  eighth  chapter,  verses 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  23 

8-11.  The  passage  is  introduced  by  describing  the 
nature  of  a  sublime  and  unchangeable  love.  "  Many 
waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods 
drown  it ;  if  a  man  would  give  all  his  substance 
for  love,  it  would  utterly  be  contemned."  Dr. 
Noyes  translates  it :  — 

"  Many  waters  cannot  quench  love, 
Nor  can  the  floods  drown  it; 

Would  a  man  give  all  the  wealth  of  his  house  for  love, 
It  would  be  utterly  contemned." 

And  in  the  previous  verse  (sixth),  what  our  trans- 
lators have  rendered  "  the  coals  thereof  are  coals  of 
fire,  which  hath  a  most  vehement  flame,"  he  is  still 
stronger :  — 

V 

"  Its  flames  are  flames  of  fire,  — 
The  fire  of  Jehovah." 

Dathe  has   it :  — 

"Nam  potens  est,  uti  mors,  amor 
Inexorabilis,  uti  inferus,  amoris  fides  ; 
Ardor  ejus  est  ardor  igneus,  flamma  divina. 
Aquarum  multitude  non  potest  extinguere  amorem 
Flumina  eum  non  inundant. 

Si  quis  omnes  suas  facultates  ob  amorem  vellet  insumere 
Contemptim  eum  rident." 

Now  let  the  reader,  in  interpreting  these  remarka- 
ble words,  remember  two  things :  —  First,  that  in  re- 
ligion, as  in  music,  there  is  something  that  neither 
by  precept  nor  doctrine  nor  example  can  ever  be 
taught,  —  it  is  A  GIFT.  Secondly,  in  the  following 


24  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

words  let  him  remember  the  riddling  spirit  of  an- 
tiquity. Kings  sent  riddles  to  each  other.  Solomon, 
according  to  Josephus,  was  renowned  for  his  sagacity 
in  solving  riddles ;  Daniel  was  an  untier  of  knots. 
Remember  Samson's  riddles,  and  remember  Jo- 
tham's  parable,  fable,  or  riddle,  whatever  you  please 
to  call  it,  Judges  ix.  7  — 15  ;  and  also  that  of  Jeho- 
ash,  2  Kings  xiv.  9 :  "  There  passed  by  a  wild  beast 
that  was  in  Lebanon,  and  trod  down  the  thistle." 
Let  him  recollect  the  riddles  of  pastoral  poetry, — 
of  Theocritus,  of  Virgil  (and  Solomon's  Song  may  be 
regarded  as  a  semi-pastoral,  i.  e.  a  pastoral  in  its 
ruder  form  in  an  earlier  nation).  Let  him  recollect 
the  riddles  in  Herodotus,  and  then  consider  the 
design  of  the  following  words,  placed  at  the  close  of 
the  poem,  as  a  clew  to  the  whole  (viii.  8  - 10)  : 
"  We  have  a  little  sister,  and  she  hath  no  breasts  : 
what  shall  we  do  for  our  sister  in  the  day  when 
she  shall  be  spoken  for  ?  If  she  be  a  wall,  we 
will  build  upon  her  a  palace  of  silver :  and  if 
she  be  a  door,  we  will  enclose  her  with  boards  of 
cedar.  I  am  a  wall,  and  my  breasts  like  towers : 
then  was  I  in  his  eyes  as  one  that  found  favor." 
What  mean  these  excessive  comparisons  but  an 
indication  that  the  subject  for  which  they  are  used 
is  not  literal  ?  What  possible  resemblance  can  there 
be  between  an  Arab  girl  and  a  wall,  or  a  tower, 
or  a  door,  or  cedar  ?  Recollect,  too,  that  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  25 

Church,  old  or  new,  Jewish  or  Christian,  is  often 
an  edifice,  a  holy,  heavenly  building;  and  from  this 
remarkable  language,  so  senseless  on  every  other 
construction,  and  giving  a  gleam  of  light  on  ours, 
I  must  conclude  that  it  is  a  help  to  guessing  the 
riddle.  It  is  written,  not,  to  be  sure,  to  supersede 
our  ingenuity,  but  to  help  us  to  the  hidden  design. 
It  is  the  very  spirit  of  antiquity ;  the  first  disci- 
pline of  civilized  sagacity. 

The  book,  then,  has  many  indications  of  its  being 
a  continued  allegory  (concealed,  perhaps),  to  call 
forth  the  discernment  and  taste  of  a  class  of  readers 
which  have  always  existed,  and  have  always  fallen 
into  a  similar  line  of  thought,  —  the  disciples  of  an 
ardent  and  mystic  piety.  Grotius  could  not  under- 
stand this  book ;  he  had  not  one  congenial  string 
in  the  whole  web-work  of  his  heart.  Learning  could 
only  lead  such  a  man  astray ;  and  Swedenborg  could 
not  understand  it,  for  such  a  book  would  have 
driven  him  mad,  if  he  had  not  been  so  before. 
But  Augustine,  Pascal,  Fdnelon,  Leighton,  were  the 
men  to  feel  its  power  and  relish  its  beauties.  Let 
them  have  their  morsel ;  and  when  they  ask  for 
bread  in  the  name  of  an  all-developing  God,  do 
not  give  them  a  stone. 

I  grant  that,  if  some  poetic  seer  were  to  bring 
me  Shenstone's  pastorals  and  say  there  was  a  spirit- 
ual under-meaning ;  that  divine  love  was  figured 
2 


26  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

under  human  images;  that  Phillada  was  the  human 
soul  and  Paradel  was  a  heretic,  etc.,  etc.,  —  I  should 
allow  that  his  invention  was  not  supported  by  his 
wisdom;  or  rather  that  it  was  supported  by  his 
wisdom  alone.  But  every  principle  that  would  lead 
me  to  call  such  a  construction  false,  applied  to  Shen- 
stone,  would  lead  me  to  consider  it  as  true  when 
applied  to  this  Song.  Consider  the  difference  ;  —  one 
ancient,  the  other  modern ;  one  belonging  to  a  sacred 
nation,  the  other  a  Briton;  the  purpose  of  the  one  to 
hide  the  better  to  reveal,  the  purpose  of  the  other 
to  be  clear; — the  taste  of  the  Jews  leaning  one  way, 
the  taste  of  the  English  the  other ;  the  one  standing 
in  the  line  of  inspiration,  the  other  copying  a  whole 
host  of  poetic  lovers  ;  the  one  having  a  very  gross, 
sensual  meaning  (if  you  take  away  his  spiritual 
object),  and  the  other  the  more  ingenious  and  beau- 
tiful as  he  is  found  to  be  more  simple  and  clear. 
Surely,  •  there  is  a  vast  difference ;  and  common 
sense,  as  well  as  pious  veneration,  leads  to  an  oppo- 
site conclusion. 

"  But,  after  all,"  says  Dr.  Noyes,  "  the  great  objec- 
tion remains  to  any  conclusion  from  the  pantheistic 
mystic  poets,  whether  of  Persia  or  India,  whether 
Mahometans  or  Hindoos ;  namely,  that  their  produc- 
tions are  founded  on  a  religion  and  philosophy 
entirely  different  from  the  Jewish.  The  Canticles 
are  productions  of  a  different  country,  and  separated 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  27 

from  any  of  the  songs  of  the  Sufi  poets  by  an  inter- 
val of  nearly  two  thousand  years.  The  Jewish  relig- 
ion has  nothing  in  common  with  the  pantheistic  mys- 
ticism on  which  those  songs  are  founded.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  Old  Testament  of  a  similar  charac- 
ter." These  remarks,  it  seems  to  me,  have  let  the 
main  questions  slip.  "  Pantheistic  mysticism "  is  not 
the  only  foundation  of  this  imagery,  nor  are  "  the 
Sufi  poets"  the  only  example.  It  is  probable  that 
the  school  that  is  separated  by  nearly  two  thousand 
years  from  the  age  of  Solomon  is  only  a  faint  reflec- 
tion of  a  more  ancient  example  ;  at  any  rate,  we 
know,  from  about  all  the  literature  that  has  come 
to  our  knowledge,  that  there  was  a  philosophy  which 
personified  nature  into  two  parts,  discord  and  con- 
cord,—  the  modern  attraction  and  repulsion,  —  and 
a  poetry  founded  on  it,  which,  allowing  a  personal 
God,  arrayed  divine  love  in  a  human  dress.  The 
Bible  recognizes  both  these  principles.  Moses  de- 
scribes the  original  chaos,  and  the  Spirit  of  God 
flutters  over  it ;  and  Paul  himself  soberly  tells  us : 
"  The  husband  is  the  head  of  the  wife,  even  as 
Christ  is  the  head  of  the  Church ;  and  he  is  the 
Saviour  of  the  body.  Therefore,  as  the  Church  is 
subject  unto  Christ,  so  let  the  wives  be  to  their  own 
husbands  in  everything.  Husbands,  love  your  wives, 
even  as  Christ  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself 
for  it,  that  he  might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  with  the 


28  THE    MANUDUCTION. 

washing  of  water  by  the  word :  that  he  might  pre- 
sent it  to  himself  a  glorious  Church,  not  having  spot 
or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing ;  but  that  it  should  be 
holy,  without  blemish.  So  ought  men  to  love  their 
wives  as  their  own  bodies.  He  that  loveth  his  wife 

loveth   himself. For  this  cause    shall   a  man 

leave  father  and  mother,  and  shall  be  joined  unto  his 
wife,  and  they  two  shall  be  one  flesh.  This  is  a  great 
mystery :  but  I  speak  concerning'  Christ  and  his 
Church"  May  we  not  paraphrase  these  words  as  fol- 
lows ?  "I  have  digressed  from  my  avowed  object,  to 
touch  upon  an  important  hidden  meaning.  It  was 
impossible  for  me  to  think  of  the  wonderful  union 
in  marriage,  begun  in  Eden  and  continued  when 
Eden  was  lost,  without  glancing  at  what  it  was 
designed  to  represent.  There  is  a  deeper  sense,  as 
there  is  a  higher  love  and  a  more  lasting  union. 
Christ  is  the  heavenly  bridegroom ;  his  Church  is 
united  to  him  by  a  celestial  wedlock.  He  has  loved 
her  with  the  purest  passion  ;  she  should  love  him  with 
a  corresponding  return.  And  I  know  nothing  in 
the  whole  round  of  nature  that  so  equally  represents 
this  reciprocal  affection,  as  human  love  sanctified  and 
secured  in  the  marriage  union."  You  may  write  this 
as  the  obvious  moral  at  the  bottom  of  the  last  verse 
of  the  Canticles. 

Dr.  Noyes  says  of  this   book :     "  If  it   be  regarded 
as  a  specimen  of  the  erotic  poetry  of  the  Hebrews,  it 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  29 

will  be  treated  with  indifference  by  most  readers, 
and  consequently  do  them  no  harm.  This  is  sur- 
prising !  Who  would  not  cry  out  here :  OVK  eiHprjftj- 
<ret9 ;  Think  of  being  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
treating  a  part  of  the  Word  of  God  with  indifference, 
in  order  to  escape  the  harm  it  may  do  us  !  I  know 
that  the  writer  does  not  allow  the  book  to  be  the 
word  of  God ;  but  is  there  not  some  danger  of  as- 
suming a  very  bold  conclusion  in  order  to  support 
the  argument?  It  is  found  in  our  sacred  collection. 
There  is  a  construction  of  it  which  to  some  minds 
has  made  it  appear  a  profitable  portion  of  divine 
instruction.  A  great  majority  of  the  Church  have  so 
regarded  it ;  they  have  perused  it  with  that  subduing 
veneration  which  made  it  the  voice  of  their  Saviour 
and  their  God  ;  and  now  —  what  a  fall !  —  it  is  only 
erotic  poison,  from  which  the  best  protection  is  a 
knowledge  of  its  character  and  indifference  to  its 
effects ! ! 

If  I  were  to  survey  a  vernal  sunset,  blazing  behind 
verdant  hills  and  blooming  groves,  painting  the  skies 
with  beauty,  and  an  instructor  were  to  bring  me  a 
smoked  glass,  darkened  over  a  fire  of  birch-bark,  and 
by  holding  it  before  the  scene  were  to  turn  the  sun 
into  darkness  and  all  the  trees  into  black  demons, 
the  transformation  would  be  equally  valuable,  but  not 
greater.  In  such  a  case,  a  man  is  justified  in  saying, 
My  remembrance  is  better  than  my  perception. 


30  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

Thus  I  have  endeavored  to  answer  these  objections 
to  the  spiritual  design  of  the  book,  though,  I  must 
confess,  not  one  of  them  would  ever  have  occurred 
to  me  had  I  been  left  to  my  original  veneration  for 
the  sacred  volume.  To  me,  they  are  all  imported. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  31 


II. 


PLACES  IN  SCRIPTURE  WHERE  DIVINE  LOVE  ASSUMES 
THE  FORM  OF  AN  EROTIC  SIMILITUDE. 

IP  this  Song  were  the  only  place  where  this  imagery 
is  used,  the  difficulty  of  deciding  would  be  greatly 
increased.  But  it  is  the  favorite  figure.  God  is  per- 
petually the  husband  of  his  people.  As  a  king  he  is 
also  a  bridegroom  ;  and  his  inauguration  on  his  throne 
is  his  marriage  with  his  people.  The  imagery  is  car- 
ried out ;  he  is  a  jealous  God ;  he  is  jealous  of  his 
people.  They  go  a  whoring  from  him  by  idolatry ;  and 
some  of  the  most  daring  pantomimes  are  acted  by  the 
holy  prophets  to  impress  these  Oriental  views.  "  The 
Lord  said  to  Hosea,  Go  take  unto  thee  a  wife  of 
whoredoms  and  children  of  whoredoms ;  for  the  land 
hath  committed  great  whoredom,  departing  from  the 
Lord.  So  he  went  and  took  Gomer,  the  daughter  of 
Diblaim,  who  conceived  and  bare  him  a  son.  And 
the  Lord  said  unto  him,  Call  his  name  Jezreel ;  for 
yet  a  little  while  and  I  will  avenge  the  blood  of  Jez- 
reel upon  the  house  of  Jehu,  and  will  cause  to  cease 
the  kingdom  of  the  house  of  Israel."  (Hosea  i. 
2-4.) 


32  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

Now,  whether  we  regard  this  narrative  as  an  histor- 
ical fact,  or  as  a  scenic  illustration,  it  shows  that 
God's  relation  to  his  people  is  painted  by  this  imagery. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  this  narrative  is  a  scenic 
illustration.  First,  because  such  actings  out  of  a 
representation  were  common  to  an  early  age,  and  are 
incidental  to  a  primitive  language.  The  more  we 
are  fettered  by  words,  the  more  we  must  be  helped 
by  action.  Secondly,  it  does  not  seem  suitable  that 
a  holy  prophet  should  be  forced  to  such  a  strange 
action.  Thirdly,  all  the  power  of  an  illustration  is 
found  in  the  scenic  act  more  than  in  the  real  one ; 
that  is,  we  gain  nothing  by  making  it  real.  Fourthly, 
a  scenic  act,  or  doing  the  deed  in  pantomime,  is 
only  a  more  vivid  extension  of  the  common  figure  of 
vision :  "I  seem  to  see  this  noble-  city  committed  to 
the  flames  ;  Catiline  revelling,  Cethegus,"  etc.,  etc.  It 
was  natural  in  the  progress  of  refinement  that  such 
pantomimic  representations  should  precede,  and  pave 
the  way  for,  the  figure  which  rhetoricians  call  vision. 
And,  lastly,  it  seems  scarcely  possible,  if  the  act 
was  real,  that  the  representation  should  have  any 
force  ;  for  if  an  audience  must  wait  for  the  prophet 
to  marry  and  have  two  children,  their  expectation 
would  cool,  and  the  subject  be  forgotten,  and  the 
comparison  fail  of  its  purpose.  The  same  remark  ap- 
plies to  the  command  to  Ezekiel  to  lie  upon  his  right 
side  three  hundred  and  ninety  days,  and  forty  days  on 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  33 

his  left  side  ;  certainly  in  such  a  time  the  people 
would  disperse  and  the  whole  subject  be  forgotten. 
The  probability  is,  that  the  same  necessity  which  forced 
a  people  to  have  recourse  to  hieroglyphics  to  express 
themselves  in  one  degree  of  development  in  language, 
might  urge  them  to  mimic  action  in  another  degree 
of  development.  This  was  probably  the  state  of  the 
Hebrew  language  at  that  time.  But  however  we  inter- 
pret the  prophet's  conduct,  it  is  certain  that  God  is 
represented  as  the  husband  of  his  people.  "  Thou 
shalt  no  more  be  termed  Forsaken ;  neither  shall  thy 
land  any  more  be  termed  Desolate :  but  thou  shalt  be 
called  Hephzi-bah,  and  thy  land  Beulah ;  for  the  Lord 
delighteth  in  thee,  and  thy  land  shall  be  married." 
(Isaiah  Ixii.  4.)  So  in  Isaiah  liv.  5  :  "  For  thy  Maker 
is  thine  husband:  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  his  name." 
So  prevalent  is  this  imagery,  that  it  passes  from  their 
poetry  into  their  laws :  God  is  a  jealous  God,  and  the 
logical  Paul  says,  that  he  has  espoused  the  Church 
as  a  chaste  virgin  to  Christ.  The  forty-fifth  Psalm  has 
often  been  quoted  as  a  parallel  example.  The  recon- 
dite meaning  is  so  manifest,  that  one  is  curious  to  see 
how  a  learned  critic  can  get  rid  of  it.  Rosenmuller 
says  it  cannot  be  written  of  an  Israelitish  king,  but 
must  have  been  composed  during  the  captivity,  and 
apply  to  some  Persian  monarch.  "  Persici  contra  regni 
veteris  formae  et  institutis  hoc  ita  congruit,  ut  ego 
nullus  dubitem,  carmen  nostrum  ab  illorum  Judae- 
2*  c 


34  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

orum,  qui  sub  Persici  imperil  ditione  viverent,  poeta 
aliquo,  novo  cuidam  Persicarum  regi  oblatum  fuisse." 
Astonishing !  !  that  a  man  should  have  no  doubt  on 
the  positive  side,  when  no  other  mortal  can  have 
any  doubt  on  the  other.  A  German  critic,  in  espous- 
ing an  opinion,  considers  nothing  but  the  difficulty 
of  defending  it.  The  Jews  were  so  prone  to  see 
national  glory  out  of  their  own  domains ;  to  exult  in 
the  prosperity  of  idolatrous  nations ;  to  think  a  power 
would  be  eternal  that  perpetuated  their  own  dishon- 
orable captivity ;  it  is  so  perfectly  natural  that  they 
should  wish  some  Persian  emperor  to  be  glorified  — 
(Ahasuerus,  perhaps,  who  consented  to  murder  them 
all)  :  "  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most 
mighty,  with  thy  glory  and  majesty,  and  in  thy 
majesty  ride  prosperously,  because  of  truth  and  meek- 
ness ;  "  —  and  after  having  been  accustomed  to  apply 
this  Psalm  to  Christ,  it  seems  so  sublime  and  glo- 
rious to  apply  it  to  some  miscreant  that  sat  on  the 
Persian  throne,  that  we  say  the  happy  thought  shall 
be  left  to  illustrate  the  fertile  invention  which  could 
engender  it.  Rosenmiiller  allows  that  this  Psalm  was 
applied  by  the  Jewish  writers  to  the  expected  Mes- 
siah long  before  our  Saviour's  birth.  He  lays  down 
this  critical  law :  "  Ut  vero,  quaecunque  antiquitus 
scripta  erant,  a  posteris  collecta  et  sine  discrimine  pro 
divinis  effatis  accepta  sunt ;  ita  et  haec  consecrarunt 
posteri,  cultui  sacro  dedicarunt,  et,  ne  ofifenderentur 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  ^  35 

lectores,  abjecto  proprio  sensu,  alium  carminibus  dede- 
runt,  allegoricum  mysticum,  et  altissima  mysteria  spi- 
rantem."  It  will  be  noticed  here  that  he  allows  the 
double  meaning ;  that  its  prevalence  was  universal 
among  the  Jews,  and  that  it  arose  from  the  locality 
of  the  first  application  of  the  prophecy,  or  ode,  and 
the  sublime  end  culminating  in  a  great  Messiah  being 
superinduced  on  the  locality.  Now,  surely,  the  alterna- 
tive meets  us  ;  in  a  selected  nation,  a  nation  under 
the  immediate  superintendence  of  God,  there  was  a 
reason  or  no  reason  for  this  prevalent  opinion  ;  and 
in  a  nation  enjoying  a  real  revelation,  such  an  opin- 
ion must  have  been  founded  on  fact,  and  not  on 
fiction. 

It  is  curious,  however,  to  see  how  all  critics  meet 
the  double  sense,  whatever  path  they  choose  to  take. 

Such,  then,  being  the  obviousness  of  a  double  sense, 
that  even  the  destructive  critic  is  obliged  to  confess  it, 
and  such  being  the  barren  meaning  which  those  are 
driven  to  who  do  not  apply  the  vTrovoia  to  Christ,  the 
believer  in  real  revelation  regards  the  Psalmist  as 
here  predicting  the  glories  of  the  Messiah.  The 
imagery  is  abundantly  of  the  erotic  kind.  "  Thou 
lovest  righteousness,  and  hatest  wickedness :  therefore 
God,  thy  God,  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of  glad- 
ness above  thy  fellows,"  i.  e.  all  other  kings.  "  All 
thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia, 
out  of  the  ivory  palaces,  whereby  they  have  made  thee 


THE  MANUDUCTION. 

glad.  King's  daughters  were  among  thy  honorable 
women ;  upon  thy  right  hand  did  stand  the  queen  in 
gold  of  Ophir.  Hearken,  0  daughter,  and  consider, 
and  incline  thine  ear ;  forget  also  thine  own  people, 
and  thy  father's  house  ;  so  shall  the  king  greatly  de- 
sire thy  beauty :  for  he  is  thy  Lord,  and  worship  thou 
him."  This  is  the  same  luxuriant  imagery  that  is  to 
be  found  in  the  Canticles,  —  the  scented  garments,  the 
myrrh,  the  cassia,  and  the  foreign  bride  that  is  to  for- 
get her  father's  house ;  and  it  is  sealed  to  the  Mes- 
siah in  the  same  way,  not  by  an  explicit  interpretation, 
but  by  the  magnificent  promise  in  the  last  verse.  "I 
will  make  thy  name  to  be  remembered  in  all  gener- 
ations ;  therefore  shall  the  people  praise  thee  for  ever 
and  ever." 

We  have  the  same  imagery  in  the  sixteenth  chapter 
of  Ezekiel,  a  little  varied.  The  Israelites  are  compared 
to  a  wretched  infant  forsaken  of  its  mother,  and  found 
in  the  open  field.  "  Thou  wast  cast  out  in  the  open 
field,  to  the  loathing  of  thy  person,  in  the  day  that 
thou  wast  born."  But  God  spared  and  cherished  the 
wretched  infant,  and  afterwards  espoused  it.  "I 
have  caused  thee  to  multiply  as  the  bud  of  the  field, 
and  thou  hast  increased  and  waxen  great,  and  thou 
hast  come  to  excellent  ornaments :  thy  breasts  are 
fashioned,  and  thine  hair  is  grown.  Now  when  I 
passed  by  thee,  and  looked  upon  thee,  behold,  thy  time 
was  the  time  of  love  :  and  I  spread  my  skirt  over 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  37 

tliee Thou  wast  exceeding  beautiful,  and  thou 

didst  prosper  into  a  kingdom But  thou  didst 

trust  in  thine  own  beauty,  and  playedst  the  harlot," 
etc.  The  allegory  is  continued  through  the  chapter. 
It  is  true  the  prophet  dwells  on  the  outward  relation 
rather  than  the  internal  love  ;  but  the  one  implies  the 
other ;  and  in  all  the  varieties  the  sacred  writers  seem 
to  be  guided  by  the  same  taste  and  spirit.  "  Therefore, 
behold,  I  will  hedge  up  thy  way  with  thorns,  and  make 
a  wall,  that  she  shall  not  find  her  paths.  And  she 
shall  follow  after  her  lovers,  but  she  shall  not  overtake 
them;  and  she  shall  seek  them,  but  shall  not  find 
them ;  then  shall  she  say,  I  will  go  and  return  to  my 
first  husband  ;  for  then  was  it  better  with  me  than 
now.  For  she  did  not  know  that  I  gave  her  corn  and 
wine  and  oil,  and  multiplied  her  silver  and  gold 
which  they  prepared  for  Baal.  Therefore  will  I  return 
and  take  away  my  corn  in  the  time  thereof,  and  my 
wine  in  the  season  thereof,  and  will  recover  my  wool 
and  my  flax  given  to  cover  her  nakedness.  And  now 
will  I  discover  her  lewdness  in  the  sight  of  her  lovers, 
and  none  shall  deliver  her  out  of  mine  hand."  (Hosea 
ii.  7-10.)  This  passage  shows  the  spirit  of  idola- 
try, just  sinking  into  the  love  of  sensual  good,  and 
then  seeking  it  from  such  gods  as  seem  willing  to 
give  it.  But,  as  idolatry  degrades  divine  love  into 
earthly,  so  the  true  worship  exalts  the  sensual  into 
the  divine. 


38  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

The  passage  in  Isaiah  v.  1-5,  looks  toward  the 
same  principle.  There  is  a  vineyard,  a  lover,  volup- 
tuous delight,  and  a  latent  spiritual  signification,  as 
we  are  expressly  told  in  the  seventh  verse.  The  sin 
was  the  want  of  the  corresponding  passion  in  one  of 
the  parties.  So  in  Jeremiah  ii.  2 :  "Go  and  cry  in 
the  ears  of  Jerusalem,  saying,  Thus  saith  the  Lord :  I 
remember  thee,  the  kindness  of  thy  youth,  the  love 
of  thine  espousals,  when  thou  wentest  after  me  in 
the  wilderness,  in  a  land  that  was  not  sown.  Israel 
was  holiness  to  the  Lord."  So  in  the  third  chapter 
of  the  same  prophet :  "  They  say,  If  a  man  put 
away  his  wife,  and  she  go  from  him  and  become  an- 
other man's,  shall  he  return  unto  her  again  ?  Shall 
not  that  land  be  greatly  polluted  ?  But  thou  hast 
played  the  harlot  with  many  lovers :  yet  return  again 
to  me,  saith  the  Lord." 

In  the  New  Testament  the  same  imagery  is  renewed. 
Indeed,  the  same  mystic  way  of  representing  transcen- 
dental truth  is  used  where  the  amatory  form  is  not 
adopted.  The  fact  is,  the  teachers  have  a  difficult 
task  to  convey  super  sensual  conceptions  to  the  most 
sensual  minds ;  to  conduct  sunbeams  to  the  darkest 
corners  of  the  subterranean  cave ;  and  it  is  instructive 
to  see  how  they  conquer  the  difficulty.  For  example, 
union  with  Christ,  —  the  union  which  is  accomplished 
by  perfect  love  producing  a  perfect  similitude.  We 
are  crucified  with  him ;  we  are  ingrafted  into  him  ; 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  39 

we  are  dead  with  him ;  we  are  alive  with  him. 
The  Lord's  Supper  itself — the  wine  and  the  bread, 
the  eating  and  the  drinking  —  is  a  material  act,  to 
signify  the  most  sublime  conception.  The  words  of 
our  Saviour  correspond :  "  Then  Jesus  sayeth  unto 
them,  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  except  ye  eat 
the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  drink  his  blood, 
ye  have  no  life  in  you.  Whoso  eateth  my  flesh  and 
drinketh  my  blood  hath  eternal  life  ;  and  I  will  raise 
him  up  at  the  last  day.  For  my  flesh  is  meat  indeed, 
and  my  blood  is  drink  indeed.  He  that  eateth  my 
flesh,  and  drinketh  my  blood,  dwelleth  in  me,  and  I 
in  him."  (John  vi.  53-56.)  So  in  another  place: 
"  In  the  last  day,  the  great  day  of  the  feast,  Jesus 
stood  and  cried,  saying,  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him 
come  unto  me  and  drink.  He  that  believeth  on  me,  as 
the  Scripture  hath  said,  out  of  his  belly  shall  flow  rivers 
of  living  water."  (John  vii.  37,  38.)  And  again  :  "  I 
am  the  true  vine,"  etc.  "  The  branch  cannot  bear 
fruit,"  etc.  (John  xv.  1  and  4.)  Now  we  cannot  say 
that  this  is  the  same  imagery,  but  it  indicates  the  same 
taste  and  looks  to  the  same  design.*  It  is  a  mystic 
veil,  employed  to  magnify  a  great  conception.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  is  said  in  Revelation  xx.  9 :  "I  will 
show  thee  the  bride,  the  Lamb's  wife." 

But  the   most  remarkable  passage   bearing   on  this 
subject  is  in  Ephesians  v.  32.     The  Apostle  is  talking 
*  See  Gale's  "  Court  of  the  Gentiles,"  Part  IV.  p.  88. 


40  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

plain  prose,  and  he  seems  to  be  giving  the  exponent 
of  this  imagery.  It  is,  therefore,  a  very  important 
passage,  —  a  classic  place.  He  is  discussing  the  ques- 
tion of  literal  marriages,  and  he  turns  aside  to  say : 
"  This  is  a  great  mystery ;  but  I  speak "  (in  saying 
it  is  a  great  mystery)  "  concerning  Christ  and  his 
Church."  Now,  would  it  be  putting  too  much  on  the 
Apostle's  important  parenthesis  to  say  his  meaning  is 
this :  Marriage  is  a  union  most  wonderful,  far  more 
significant  than  it  at  first  appears.  In  a  happy  mar- 
riage, two  hearts  are  made  one,  —  one  in  interest,  in 
reputation,  in  affection,  —  in  their  children  and  in  their 
human  destiny  ;  and  it  is  the  only  instance  on  earth 
—  in  this  respect  it  stands  alone  —  to  shadow  forth, 
however  inadequately,  the  everlasting  union  between 
Christ  and  his  people,  the  soul  and  its  Saviour.  If 
we  abandon  this  illustration,  where  shall  we  find 
another  ?  This  is  at  once  a  hint  what  marriage 
ought  to  be,  and  of  what  the  union  with  Christ 
always  is. 

THE    UNITY. 

IT  is  a  maxim  in  philosophy  that  no  part  of  a  sys- 
tem can  be  comprehended  without  some  view  of  the 
whole.  It  is  so  with  regard  to  the  Bible.  It  has  suf- 
fered amazingly  by  being  regarded  as  a  fragmentary 
book,  whose  parts  have  not  been  collected  into  one 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  41 

whole.  It  must  be  allowed  that  there  is  a  great 
superficial  diversity.  What  can  seem  more  different 
than  the  ritualism  of  Moses  and  the  spiritualism  of 
Christ,  —  that  absence  of  a  future  state  under  the 
Law,  and  the  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light  in 
the  Gospel, —  the  prudential  maxims  of  Solomon,  and 
the  total  disregard  to  worldly  success  which  seems  to 
be  inculcated  by  Christ?  But  yet,  notwithstanding 
this  apparent  discrepancy,  there  is  a  golden  thread 
that  runs  through  all  the  varieties  of  revelation.  It 
is  one  body  in  a  changing  dress.  The  variety  arises 
from  the  GROWING  IDEA.  The  orbicular  shape  of  the 
sun  cannot  be  seen  when  he  is  half  risen ;  and  the 
word  of  God  is  as  "a  shining  light,  which  shines 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day."  (Prov.  iv.  18.) 
Now  the  chief  mistakes  which  are  made  in  interpret- 
ing the  Bible  arise  from  not  seeing  the  unity  which 
runs  through  all  its  parts.  It  is  a  complex  drama,  in 
which  no  scene  is  superfluous,  and  no  speech  made 
at  random.  Perhaps  the  uniting  idea  —  the  central 
tkought  which  pervades  the  whole  book  —  is  suggested 
by  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  the  name  "of  the  system 
which  he  preached.  Our  Lord  was  called  Jesus 
because  he  was  to  "  save  his  people  from  their  sins ; " 
and  his  system  was  to  be  called  the  Gospel,  because  it 
was  to  be  good  news  to  people  whose  natural  condition 
reported  nothing  but  darkness  and  despair.  Now  this 
redemptive  system,  implying  a  previously  lost  condition, 


42  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

is  the  central  idea  around  which  all  the  facts  and  prin- 
ciples of  revelation  turn.  All  are  compact  parts ;  prep- 
arations or  accomplishments.  Hence  the  history  be- 
gins with  Eden.  The  creation  shows  God's  right  to 
command,  and  man's  obligation  to  obey ;  and.  whereas 
it  has  been  said  that  creation  itself,  without  benevo- 
lence in  the  creating  power,  would  give  no  right  to 
command,  behold  how  all  the  elements  of  right  meet 
in  God,  —  creation,  benevolence,  wisdom,  worth.  Here 
is  the  prime  idea.  God's  right  shows  the  foundation 
of  our  duty,  and  what  sin  is.  Then  comes  the  prim- 
itive innocence  and  the  fall  of  man ;  which  is  the 
exponent  of  a  fallen  world,  and  lays  the  foundation 
of  the  great  redemption.  Then  comes  the  first  form 
of  religion, — a  glimmering  Gospel.  Sin,  supplication, 
repentance,  sacrifices.  Promises  are  made.  The  Israel- 
ites are  redeemed  from  Egypt,  and  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation is  given ;  the  Law  has  a  shadow  of  good 
things  to  come.  The  multiplied  sacrifices  point  to  one 
ulterior.  I  know  that  difficulties  may  be  raised.  It 
may  be  asked,  if  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  was  pictured 
by  the  old  offerings,  why  the  picture  was  not  more 
simple ;  why  they  were  so  amazingly  multiplied ; 
why  we  are  lost  in  confusion  in  contemplating  the 
variety.  Perhaps  it  was  best  that  the  simplicity 
should  come  with  the  culminating  point;  that  Christ 
should  be  the  only  exponent,  because  he  was  the 
majestic  centre.  At  any  rate,  we  learn  in  all  the 


THE  MANUDUCTTON.  43 

complex  examples,  that  "without  the  shedding  of 
blood  there  is  no  remission." 

It  would  be  long  to  go  through  all  the  examples 
of  this  centralizing  diversity.  The  Bible  proposes  one 
great  fact,  and  presents  one  great  design.  Ruin  and 
Recovery  are  its  watchwords.  Sin  and  an  atonement; 
alienation  from  God  and  reconciliation  ;  a  sinner  jus- 
tified in  his  person  and  purified  in  his  heart.  The 
divine  image  lost  and  restored.  All  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament is  preparation ;  all  in  the  New  is  accom- 
plishment. As  Pascal  says :  "  Les  deux  Testaments 
regardent  Jesus  Christ,  1'ancien  comme  son  attente, 
le  nouveau  comme  son  module ;  tous  deux  comme 
leur  centre." 

The  Psalms  may  be  regarded  as  surpassing  pictures 
of  Christian  emotion ;  the  more  striking,  as  shining 
out  amid  the  general  ritualism  of  the  Hebrew  worship. 
The  prophecies  grow  brighter  as  the  kingdom  decays. 
They  are  not  merely  minute  specifications  of  a  literal 
fulfilment,  as  they  are  too  often  regarded,  and  still 
less  a  fore-plan  of  chronological  exactness  ;  but  they 
are  a  general  outline  of  a  great  restoration  founded 
on  the  GREAT  SECRET  of  God  finally  revealed.  They 
are  full  of  hope,  and  hope  springing  in  the  midst  of 
outward  despair.  Isaiah  is  almost  an  anticipated  Gos- 
pel ;  —  its  central  fact,  its  glorious  result,  its  predom- 
inating spirit. 

But  in   order  to    show  the   unity  in   the   remotest 


44  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

elements,  let  us  take  a  book  hardest  to  be  reconciled 
to  its  general  plan, — the  Book  of  Job,  for  example. 
A  good  man  falls  into  calamity,  and  his  friends  come 
to  comfort  him,  and  a  long  discussion  follows,  in 
which  all  parties  seem  to  say  about  the  same  things  ; 
and  it  is  hard  to  tell  where  they  join  issue,  and  no 
result  seems  to  follow.  Now,  what  connection  has 
this  book  with  the  great  design  of  the  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures ?  The  whole  trouble  of  the  contestants  in  this 
book  seems  to  arise  from  the  want  of  a  few  truths 
which  the  Gospel  makes  very  plain.  The  future  state 
is  hardly  a  positive  idea  with  them,  though  they  occa- 
sionally have  dim  anticipations  of  it.  Of  course,  the 
design  of  life  is  not  clearly  seen,  —  its  discipline,  the 
original  guilt  of  man,  sin  as  a  principle,  the  redemp- 
tion and  the  purification.  Of  course  their  discussion 
is  at  random,  and  the  great  design  of  the  book  is 
revealed  in  the  last  chapters,  when  God  is  brought 
in  upon  the  stage,  rebuking  their  presumption  and 
showing  their  ignorance.  Compare  this  book  with 
the  Pha3do  of  Plato.  How  striking  the  resemblance  ! 
how  instructive  the  contrast!  Socrates  feels  his  way 
like  an  honest  man,  without  a  celestial  guide ;  he  is 
very  respectable  in  his  scepticism,  and  he  is  very 
instructive  even  in  his  dogmatism.  He  shows  the 
best  that  human  nature  could  do  in  his  condi- 
tion. But  Job  is  met  by  a  better  guide,  who 
teaches  him  his  own  ignorance ;  and  the  substance 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  45 

of  the  Divine  sermon  seems  to  be,  Wait  for  better 
light. 

The  book  of  Ecclesiastes  shows  the  vanity  of  this 
world  as  a  scene  of  enjoyment.  This  is  an  important 
preparation  for  religion ;  it  takes  the  most  danger- 
ous weight  out  of  the  opposite  scale. 

But  it  may  be  asked  how  this  book  (Solomon's 
Song)  corresponds  with  this  wonderful  unity.  Here 
is  a  love-song,  full  of  ardor,  with  the  most  sensual 
and  luscious  imagery,  and  we  are  required  to  give  it 
a  place  among  the  preparations  for  the  purest  sys- 
tem of  religion  ever  offered  to  the  world.  I  would 
remark,  only  once  admit  that  the  book  is  an  alle- 
gory, and  all  the  rest  follows  of  course.  We  have 
abundance  of  descriptions  in  the  Old  Testament  of 
the  outward  splendor  of  Christ's  kingdom ;  here  is 
its  interior,  —  the  joys  and  the  transports  it  is  to 
impart  to  the  regenerate  heart.  It  teaches  us  that 
there  is  something  in  religion  which  no  words  can 
adequately  express,  —  the  union  of  the  soul  with  its 
Saviour,  the  transports  and  the  joys  of  the  divine 
life.  There  is  one  question  which  meets  almost  every 
sinner  in  his  struggles  with  his  own  soul :  How  shall 
I  get  the  will  ?  How  shall  I  form  the  purpose  of 
obeying  God  ?  I  am  told  that  the  duties  of  religion 
are  easy  to  him  who  once  has  a  disposition ;  but 
how  shall  I  get  that  disposition  ?  How  shall  I  con- 
quer my  own  heart  ? 


46  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

Now,  this  book  answers  that  question  as  far  it  can 
be  answered.  It  shows  there  is  revealed  to  the  regen- 
erate heart  a  new  passion ;  a  love  stronger  than  death, 
which  makes  all  duty  easy.  Self-denial  is  lost  in  the 
voluntary  sacrifice.  The  soul,  divorced  from  its  grov- 
elling passions,  is  devoted  to  the  heavenly  bridegroom. 
It  is  borne  on  by  the  whole  of  its  new  nature  to  a 
delightful  obedience.  The  beauty  of  Christ  being  re- 
vealed to  the  soul,  the  corresponding  passion  springs 
up  in  the  heart,  and,  like  a  resistless  stream,  draws 
every  faculty  and  power  into  its  channel.  It  cannot 
disobey ;  the  love  of  Christ  constrains  it. 

It  was  very  important  that  this  highest  point  of 
Christianity,  like  the  summit  of  some  sunny  mountain, 
should  glitter  in  the  distance,  and  show  the  soul  of 
the  system  which  was  yet  to  be  revealed. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  this  absorbing  whole,  this 
totality  of  revelation,  explains  some  things  in  the 
sacred  history  which  otherwise  would  seem  strange. 
Let  us  look  at  two  examples.  When  Jacob  fled 
from  his  father-in-law,  and  was  expecting  to  meet  in 
the  wilderness  his  indignant  brother,  we  are  told : 
"  Jacob  was  left  alone ;  and  there  wrestled  a  man 
with  him  until  the  breaking  of  the  day.  And  when 
he  saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against  him,  he  touched 
the  hollow  of  his  thigh;  and  the  hollow  of  Jacob's 
thigh  was  out  of  joint  as  he  wrestled  with  him.  And 
He  said,  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.  And  he 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  47 

said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me. 
And  He  said  unto  him,  What  is  thy  name  ?  And  he 
said,  Jacob.  And  He  said,  Thy  name  shall  no  more 
be  called  Jacob,  but  Israel ;  for  as  a  prince  hast 
thou  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast  pre- 
vailed. And  Jacob  said,  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy 
name.  And  He  said,  Wherefore  is  it  that  thou  dost 
ask  after  my  name?  And  He  blessed  him  there.-  And 
Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place  Peniel ;  for  I 
have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  pre- 
served." Here,  then,  is  a  wonderful  story,  on  which 
different  readers  put  different  constructions.  The  ne- 
ologist  says  it  is  an  old  wives'  tale,  a  dream,  the  inno- 
cent invention  of  a  mistaken  mind  ;  it  stands  rank  and 
file  with  a  hundred  other  myths  in  the  Pagan  pages. 
Our  venerable  fathers,  without  recognizing  any  diffi- 
culty, talked  of  wrestling  with  God  in  prayer,  and 
brought  the  example  of  Jacob  with  no  other  design 
than  to  conform  their  faith,  without  analyzing  the 
features  of  the  story.  But  may  we  not  say,  without 
violating  any  critical  rule,  that,  from  the  general  de- 
sign of  the  Old  Testament,  it  was  intended  to  pre- 
pare the  mind  of  Jacob,  and,  through  him,  all  the 
expectants,  for  the  great  doctrine  of  the  incarnation  ? 
He  meets  a  wonderful  man ;  he  wrestles  with  him ; 
he  feels  the  force  of  his  bones  and  sinews  ;  he  carries 
away  in  his  own  body  proofs  of  his  materiality ;  and 
yet  he  says,  "  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face."  Take 


48  THE    MANUDUCTION. 

the  passage  in  connection  with  the  final  development, 
and  does  it  not  prepare  the  way  for  the  great  con- 
viction ?  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  and  it  would 
be  vain  here  to  start  the  objection,  that  Christ  was 
not  yet  born,  and  his  body  not  yet  formed ;  for  it 
might  suit  the  Divine  purpose  to  work  an  anticipa- 
tory miracle,  and  to  assume  a  prototype  of  what  was 
afterwards  to  be.  (Genesis  xxxii.  24-30.) 

The  other  passage  is  in  Exodus  xxxii.  7-35. 
The  whole  transaction  is  remarkable.  Nothing  but  a 
clear  perception  of  the  general  design  of  the  old  econ- 
omy can  reconcile  us  to  the  representation.  If  I  were 
a  neologist,  what  work  should  I  make  of  it?  The 
people  sin  ;  they  make  a  golden  calf,  under  the  very 
mountain  blazing  with  the  terrors  of  the  true  God. 
God  is  angry ;  he  threatens  to  destroy  them ;  he  is 
with  great  difficulty  turned  from  his  purpose  ;  and  he 
offers  to  blot  out  the  whole  nation,  and  make  of 
the  posterity  of  Moses  a  still  greater  one.  What  an 
astonishing  representation !  Is  a  man  more  merciful 
than  God  ?  Does  the  wisdom  of  Moses  surpass  that 
of  Jehovah  ?  Is  God,  by  a  feeble  suggestion,  turned 
from  his  eternal  counsels,  and  is  there  not  danger 
that  the  love  and  gratitude  of  the  delivered  should 
turn  from  the  Creator  to  the  creature?  The  only 
rational  explanation  is,  that  the  very  paradox  of  the 
incident  is  its  solution.  It  was  permitted  to  illus- 
trate a  great  principle,  —  that  Divine  mercy  is  a  pre- 

\ 


/ 

THE  MANUDUCTION.  49 


cious  gift,  because  it  is  a  victory  over  opposing 
principles.  Why  did  Christ  arise  a  great  while  be- 
fore day,  and  go  to  the  mountain  apart  to  pray  ? 
Why  is  an  atonement  necessary  ?  Why  is  any  prayer 
necessary  ?  Why  is  forgiveness  a  tardy  gift,  wrung 
from  a  reluctant  God  ?  All  these  things  centre  on 
one  point.  To  show  that  the  Divine  Mind,  in  look- 
ing on  all  conditions  and  consequences,  has  selected 
these  means  to  assure  us  that  our  salvation  is  a 
higher  favor  than  our  finite  minds  can  well  conceive. 
Difficulties  conquered,  bars  removed,  we  must  seek 
it  with  strong  cries  and  tears ;  others  must  seek 
it  for  us ;  and,  above  all,  the  great  Intercessor  must 
plead  the  merits  of  his  atoning  blood.  I  will  not  say 
that  Moses  was  a  type  of  Christ ;  but  I  will  say 
his  prayer  is  a  precedent, — it  illustrates  the  great 
principle. 

But  the  Bible  not  only  has  a  unity  itself,  but  it 
is  the  only  book  that  gives  an  instructive  unity  to 
the  world's  history,  —  to  the  great  design  of  nature. 
When  we  trace  the  laws  of  nature,  we  suppose  a 
design,  —  an  end  and  an  aim  by  which  all  its  laws 
must  be  interpreted,  since  it  presents  a  culminating 
point  to  which  they  all  tend. 


50  THE   MANUDUCTION. 


III. 


AMATORY  DEVOTION    IN    HEATHEN   LITERATURE  AND 
IN  THE  CHURCH  SINCE  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  APOSTLES. 

IT  is  certain,  then,  that  the  Israeli tish  nation  set 
forth  the  purest  passion  under  the  most  sensual 
imagery.  Divine  love  expressed  its  glowing  senti- 
ments in  amatory  verse.  But  the  question  may  be 
started  whether  other  nations  adopted  the  same  lan- 
guage, and  fell  into  the  same  train  of  thought. 
Greece  and  Rome  are  the  objects  of  Western  admi- 
ration. From  these  two  people  we  derive  our  liter- 
ature, our  language,  our  poetry,  our  grammar,  and 
our  laws.  We  look  up  to  them  as  patterns  of  civ- 
ilization ;  and  from  their  remains  we  derive  our 
wisdom.  Their  writers  ran  through  almost  every 
form  of  human  thought.  The  question  comes,  then, 
What  light  does  their  literature  throw  on  this  mode 
of  thought  and  expression  ? 

Ajid  here  we  may  at  once  detect  two  causes 
which  must  diminish  our  expectation  of  finding  par- 
allels of  this  peculiar  poetry  among  them.  First,  they 
were  polytheists,  and  had  not  the  concentrated  devo- 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  51 

lion  of  the  Hebrews ;  and,  secondly,  they  were  of 
a  colder  temperament,  and  far  less  meditative.  Yet 
I  think  we  can  find  fragments  and  sparklings  of  the 
same  taste  and  turn  of  expression.  They  laid  the 
foundation  of  such  ardent  devotion  in  their  philoso- 
phy, and,  though  the  fire  burned  fainter,  yet  the 
fuel  was  more  intellectually  supplied. 

They  at  least  laid  a  foundation  for  this  poetry. 
I  imagine  it  began  in  the  fact  that  they  regarded 
nature  as  existing  in  two  parts,  —  the  active  and  the 
passive,  —  the  power  and  the  object  of  that  power. 
Cicero  has  given  us  the  philosophical  view  of  nature : 
"De  natura  autem  (id  enim  sequebatur)  ita  dice- 
bant,  ut  earn  dividerent  in  res  duas :  ut  altera  effi- 
ciens,  altera  autem,  quasi  huic  se  praebens,  ea,  quae 
emceretur  aliquid.  In  eo  quod  efficeret,  vim  esse 
censebant:  in  eo  autem,  quod  efficeretur,  materiani 
quandam:  in  utroque  tamen  utrumque.  Neque  enim 
materiam  ipsam  cohaerere  potuisse,  si  nulla  vi  conti- 
neretur,  neque  vim  sine  aliqua  materia." — "The  Aca- 
demics say  that  nature  is  divided  into  two  parts ; 
the  one  efficient,  the  other  yielding  itself  to  this 
efficiency  until  it  is  formed  into  something.  In  that 
which  acts,  there  is  power ;  in  that  which  is  acted 
on,  there  is  the  material.  Neither  exists  alone  ;  for 
the  material  cannot  cohere  without  the  power  that 
contains  it,  nor  can  the  power  act  without  the  mate- 
rial." (Cicero  Academicorum,  Lib.  I.  Sect.  6.) 


52  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

In  a  word,  there  is  an  active  and  passive  nature, 
and  one  step  in  personification  would  make  the  one 
male  and  the  other  female.  This  step  was  taken ; 
and  perhaps  it  preceded  the  philosophic  view,  —  for 
poetry  is  before  philosophy ;  personification  precedes 
analysis.*  We  find  spread  over  all  early  civilization, 
especially  in  Hindostan,  in  Egypt,  in  Greece,  certain 
emblems,  not  intended  to  be  obscene  (though  now 
seeming  so),  of  the  productive  powers  of  nature. 
The  phallic  emblem  in  Egypt,  and  similar  ones  in 
the  East,  and  in  polished  Greece,  show  that  in  the 
most  sensual  form  of  love  they  saw  something  higher 
and  nobler.  All  nature  was  actuated  by  it ;  it  engen- 
dered and  continued  the  world.  An  old  philosopher 
had  said :  -Et?  epcora  jJL€ra/3\rj0at,  rbv  Aia  //.eXXoWa 
Syfjuovpyelv,  that  when  God  was  about  to  build  the 
world,  he  transformed  himself  into  love.  Hesiod  has 
made  love  a  principle ;  and  Aristotle  says  :  "  One 
would  suspect  that  Hesiod,  and  if  there  be  any 
other  who  made  love  or  desire  a  principle  of  things 
in  the  universe,  arrived  at  this  very  thing  (namely, 
the  settling  another  active  principle  beside  matter)  ; 
for  Parmenides,  describing  the  generation  of  the 

*  Lactantius,  speaking  of  heat  and  moisture,  says :  "  Alterum  enini 
quasi  masculinum  elementum  est,  alterum  quasi  femininum,  alterum  acti- 
vura,  alterum  patibile.  Ideo  a  veteribus  institutum  est,  ut  sacramento 
ignis  et  aquae  nuptiarum  foedera  sanciantur,  quod  foetus  animantium 
calore  et  humore  corporentur  atque  animentur  ad  vitam."  (Lact.  Inst. 
Lib.  II.  Sect.  9.) 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  53 

universe,  makes  Love  to  be  the  senior  of  all  the 
gods  ;  and  Hesiod,  after  he  had  mentioned  chaos, 
introduced  Love  as  the  supreme  deity.  As  intimat- 
ing herein,  that,  besides  matter,  there  ought  to  be 
another  cause  or  principle,  which  should  be  the 
original  of  motion  and  activity,  and  also  hold  and 
join  all  things  together.  But  how  these  two  princi- 
ples are  to  be  ordered,  and  which  of  them  was  to 
be  placed  first,  —  whether  Love  or  Chaos,  —  may  be 
judged  of  afterwards.  (Cudworth's  Intellectual  Sys- 
tem, Yol.  I.  p.  122.) 

Plato,  in  his  Symposium,  has  made  love  to  be  a  gen- 
eral principle,  the  attraction  and  harmony  of  the  natu- 
ral and  moral  universe ;  in  its  lowest  form,  in  all  the 
sensualities  of  life,  the  degraded  and  perverted  mani- 
festation of  a  higher  good.  The  material  manifestation 
is  always  the  shadow  of  something  higher ;  hence  Sir 
William  Jones  says,  with  regard  to  the  offensive  images 
in  the  Hindoo  temples:  "It  never  seems  to  have  en- 
tered the  heads  of  the  legislators  of  the  people  that  any- 
thing natural  could  be  offensively  obscene ;  a  singularity 
which  pervades  all  their  writings  and  conversation,  but 
is  no  proof  of  depravity  in  their  morals."  (As  quoted 
in  Crawford's  Researches.)  There  is  a  profound  re- 
mark of  Constant,  quoted  and  sanctioned  by  Milman : 
"  These  indecent  rites  (i.  e.  the  worship  of  Priapus) 
may  be  practised  by  a  religious  people  with  great 
purity  of  heart.  But  when  infidelity  corrupts  them, 


54  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

these  rites  become  the  cover  and  the  cause  of  the  most 
revolting  corruption."  Just  so.  I  can  easily  imagine 
a  simple  people,  with  a  primitive  imagination,  brought 
to  worship  the  symbols  of  the  most  wonderful  power 
in  nature,  the  cause  of  its  existence,  and  certainly 
its  preservation,  without  lingering  on  the  sign,  but 
rising  to  the  general  power,  which  is  now  found  to 
pervade  all  the  animal  and  vegetable  creation,  which 
keeps  the  inorganic  world  together,  and  which  is  not 
without  its  vestiges  in  the  mental,  moral,  and  spirit- 
ual world ;  all  nature  subsists  by  the  meeting  of  a 
giving  and  receptive  power,  olov  av  TTOITJ  TO  TTOLQVV, 
TOWVTOV  TO  irda^ov  irdo-^eiv.  (Gorglas  of  Plato, 
476.  D.)  In  religion,  objective  truth  must  come 
clothed  in  beauty,  and  that  beauty  must  act  on  a 
receptive  heart.  As  the  Scripture  says :  "  Break  up 
your  fallow  ground,  and  sow  not  among  thorns." 
(Jeremiah  iv.  3.)  I  am  not  sure,  that,  in  the 
highest  sense,  the  second  and  third  persons  in  the 
ever-blessed  Trinity  are  not  the  acting  and  recep- 
tive parts  of  the  Divine  nature.  It  is  certain  that 
THE  WORD  meets  the  heart  as  a  motive  power,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost  makes  it  receptive.  Thus  a  sensual 
people  saw  Divine  love  only  in  its  grossest  sem- 
blances. 

In  the  Symposium  of  Plato,  we  have  the  philoso- 
phy, or  the  didactic  foundation,  on  which  this  ar- 
dent poetry  rests.  Love,  according  to  Plato,  is  nei- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  55 

ther  a  god  nor  a  man,  but  an  intermediate  de- 
mon ;  not  beautiful,  but  desiring  beauty ;  always 
seeking,  always  supplied.  We  must  begin  by  seeing 
the  beauty  in  a  single  body  ;  we  must  discover  thai 
the  beauty  in  one  body  is  twin-brother  to  that  in 
another.  We  must  rise  from  the  individual  to  the 
species,  and  from  the  species  to  the  genus.  We 
must  ascend  from  the  material  to  the  mental,  the 
beauty  of  the  mind,  of  study,  of  knowledge,  of  virtue, 
until  we  reach  the  perception  of  that  great  sea  of 
beauty  which  makes  us  pour  out  words,  but  which 
no  words  can  express ;  we  must  grasp  that  eternal 
idea  which  is  not  born,  but  is ;  not  coming  and 
going,  but  existing ;  not  increasing  and  decaying, 
but  ever  fixed ;  not  now  deformed  and  now  more 
fair  ;  not  comparatively  beautiful ;  not  a  quality  in 
other  things,  or  different  things ;  not  fancied  in  a 
cheek,  a  hand,  a  shape,  or  a  foot,  but  one  great 
totality;  not  even  an  expression,  or  representative 
thought ;  but  itself  by  itself,  simple,  uncompounded, 
self-seen  ;  borrowing  nothing  from  other  things,  but 
giving  beauty  to  all.  It  is  being  ravished  with  this 
ETERNAL  BEAUTY  that  awakens  true  love  and  gives 
true  virtue  ;  and  it  is  implied  in  this  scheme  that 
this  beauty  must  be  impersonated  in  some  competent 
Being,  since  it  is  a  mental  beauty,  and  is  the  ob- 
jective cause  of  love,  which  is  a  mental  passion, 
and  since  the  beauty  spread  over  material  things, 


56  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

whether    seen    in    the    rose's   bloom   or   the   virgin's 
smile,  originates  in  mind. 

Thus,  we  see,  a  foundation  was  laid  in  philosophy 
for  the  Hebrew  poem.  The  coincidence  is  remark- 
able. In  Solomon's  Song,  virtue  is  a  passion ;  it  is 
love ;  and  the  cause  of  that  love  is  the  perception  of 
beauty;  a  perception  of  Divine  beauty  awakening 
Divine  love,  and  both  capable  of  lower  similitudes ; 
and,  what  is  still  more  remarkable,  neither  Plato  nor 
/  the  inspired  writer  attempts  to  explain  that  ETER- 
NAL SECRET,  whether  the  perception  is  the  parent  of 
the  passion,  or  the  passion  produces  the  perception. 
They  are  simultaneous  in  time,  and  reciprocally  cause 
and  effect. 

Lord  Shaftesbury  was  a  writer  free  from  all  enthu- 
siasm, and  especially  all  religious  enthusiasm ;  and 
he  seems  to  think  that  wit  and  good-humor  are  the 
best  prerequisites  to  find  our  way  among  the  solemni- 
ties of  religion.  And  yet  he  got  hold  of  something 
like  Plato's  idea.  "  The  admirers,"  says  he,  "  of 
beauty  in  the  fair  sex,  would  laugh,  perhaps,  to  hear 
of  a  moral  part  in  their  amours ;  yet  what  a  stir  is 
made  about  a  heart!  What  curious  search  of  senti- 
ments and  tender  thoughts !  What  praises  of  a  hu- 
mor, a  sense,  a  jewe-s§ai-quoi  of  wit,  and  all  those 
graces  of  a  mind  which  those  virtuoso-lovers  delight 
to  celebrate !  Let  them  settle  this  matter  among 
themselves,  and  regulate,  as  they  think  fit,  the  pro- 


THE  MANUDUCTTON.  57 

portions  which  these  different  beauties  hold  to  one 
another ;  they  must  allow  still  that  there  is  a  beauty 
of  the  mind;  and  such  as  is  essential  in  the  case. 
Why  else  is  the  very  air  of  foolishness  enough  to  cloy 
a  lover  at  first  sight  ?  Why  does  an  idiot-look  and 
manner  destroy  the  effect  of  those  outward  charms, 
and  rob  the  fair  one  of  her  power,  though  regularly 
armed  and  in  all  the  exactness  of  feature  and  com- 
plexion ?  We  may  imagine  what  we  please  of  a  sub- 
stantial, solid  part  of  beauty  ;  but,  were  the  subject 
to  be  criticised,  we  should  find,  perhaps,  that  what 
we  most  admired,  even  in  the  turn  of  outward  fea- 
tures, was  only  a  mysterious  expression  and  a  kind 
of  shadow  of  something  inward  in  the  temper ;  and 
that  when  we  were  struck  with  a  majestic  air,  a 
sprightly  look,  an  Amazon  bold  grace,  or  a  contrary 
soft  and  gentle  one,  it  was  chiefly  the  fancy  of 
these  characters  or  qualities  which  wrought  on  us ; 
our  imaginations  being  busied  in  forming  beauteous 
shapes  and  images  of  this  rational  kind,  which  enter- 
tained the  mind  and  held  it  in  admiration ;  whilst 
other  passions  of  a  lower  species  were  employed  an- 
other way."  (Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  Wit  and 
Humor,  Part  IV.  Sect.  2.) 

There  is  another  form  of  love  alluded  to  in  Plato's 
Symposium,  which  I  mention  with  great  reluctance, 
and  which  is  one  of  the  most  inexplicable  enigmas 
of  antiquity.  I  allude  to  the  love  of  beautiful  boys, 


58  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

and  the  views  which  the  gravest  men  entertained  of 
it.  The  classical  reader  will  understand  what  I  mean, 
by  the  speech  of  Alcibiades  at  the  close  of  the  above- 
mentioned  dialogue.  It  is  a  part  of  their  system  of 
the  influence  of  beauty  on  love,  and  love  on  the 
heart.  They  generalized  the  passion  and  its  cause, 
and  supposed  that  we  might  ascend  from  the  beauty 
of  the  flower  to  the  First  supremely  Fair,  —  the  Great 
First  Cause  and  Last  End  of  all  things.  I  must  con- 
fess that  no  phenomenon  in  ancient  history  has  ap- 
peared to  me  so  astounding  as  the  toleration  and 
even  laudatory  view  which  Socrates  and  Plato  take  of 
a  passion  which  modern  decency  hardly  permits  us  to 
name.  But  the  train  of  thinking  which  led  these 
virtuous  men  to  this  amazing  result  was  this.  It  is 
well  known,  I  believe,  and  it  is  certain,  that  when 
two  passions  resemble  each  other,  and  yet  differ, 
where  the  resemblance  is  innocent,  and  the  difference 
in  one  of  them  is  perfectly  horrible,  that  to  .make  the 
resemblance  prevail  at  the  expense  and  to  the  expul- 
sion of  the  horrible,  must  seem  in  both  ways  to  be 
the  triumph  of  virtue.  The  mind  shows  her  choice 
by  a  double  selection.  Thus  the  old  monks  must 
have  supposed  there  was  some  resemblance  between 
Divine  and  human  love ;  and  he  that  abated  the 
higher  to  gratify  the  lower  passion  became  a  worse 
man ;  but  he  that  gave  up  the  lower  to  the  higher, 
by  a  contrary  rule,  became  celestial,  angelic.  Now 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  59 

the  ancients  were  aware  that  the  unnatural  passion, 
as  we  call  it,  was  a  sinful  one,  and  of  course 
the  conquering  it  must  be  virtuous ;  and,  as  the 
beauty  of  the  object  bore  some  resemblance  to  the 
great  celestial  beauty,  both  the  existence  and  the 
governing  of  the  passion  must  be  a  complex  act  of 
virtue.  It  was  dreadful  if  you  sunk  to  sensuality, 
but  glorious  if  you  rose  to  the  sublime.  The  Aphro- 
dite 7ra^S?7yLto?  must  yield  to  the  true  Urania.  Hence 
Socrates  thought  the  ambiguous  passion  was  to  be 
cherished  in  a  free  community ;  it  was  to  be  sup- 
pressed in  despotic  lands.  It  was  refining  when  the 
love  was  fixed  on  the  beauty  of  the  mind.  In  Ionia, 
the  passion  was  forbidden,  for  in  a  despotic  country 
no  enthusiasm  could  be  tolerated,  no  elevation  could 
be  expected  (see  Symposium,  page  182,  B) ;  and 
this  passion  in  its  conflict  and  victory  was  supposed 
to  be  connected  with  enthusiasm,  valor,  enterprise,  the 
love  of  liberty,  —  indeed,  all  that  makes  men  enter- 
prising and  free.  A  band  of  such  lovers  was  sup- 
posed to  be  invincible.  Hence  Philip  is  represented 
as  saying,  when  he  saw  the  relics  of  the  sacred  band 
of  the  three  hundred  Thebans  that  fell  at  the  battle 
of  Chaeronea:  "  Let  them  perish  who  suspect  that 
these  men  either  suffered,  or  did  anything  base." 

From  the  fact  that  nature  seems  to  be  divided 
into  two  great  powers,  —  the  active  and  passive  — 
together  with  the  vivid  disposition  to  personification 


60  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

in  the  ancient  mind,  it  is  probable  that  the  pagans 
got  their  Jupiter  and  Juno,  the  male  and  female 
deities  of  Heaven. 

"  Turn  pater  omnipotens  fecundis  imbribus  JEther 
Conjugis  in  gremium  laetae  descendit,  et  omnes 
Magnus  alit,  magno  commixtus  corpore,  foetus." 

"JEther,  great  lord  of  life,  his  wings  extends, 
And  on  the  bosom  of  his  bride  descends." 

SOUTHEBY. 

Or  according  to  a  fragment  of  JEschylus : 

'Epa  ftei>  dyvos  ovpavbs  rpSxrai  \B6va. 
"Epcas  Se  yaiav  Xa/x/3di/et  yapov  TU^ea/. 
*O/z/3poff  6°  an'  evvdfrvros  ovpavov  7reo-a>i> 
yaiav '  rj  de  rucrerai  Bporot? 
re  Boo-fcay  KOI  Btai/  Ar]p,r)Tpiov, 
AevSpeov  8e  ns  opos  e<  vorifrvros  ydp-ov 
TeXetoy  eVrt.     roii/d'  eya)  Trapairios- 

(VENUS.) 

"  Heaven  loves,  though  pure,  earth's  bosom  to  invade, 
And  keep  the  wondrous  nuptials  nature  made; 
Showers  from  the   covering  sky  bedew  the  ground, 
And  spread  the  apples  and  the  corn  around; 
Each  tree,  each  plant,  from  me  perfection  draws ; 
Of  all  that  blooms,  I,  Venus,  am  the  cause." 

The  outlines  of  this  system  may  be  traced  in  the 
sacred  Scriptures.  Baal  and  Ashtaroth,  or  Astarte, 
the  sun  and  the  moon ;  or,  as  later  critics  say,  the 
male  and  female  star  of  fortune.  In  Isaiah  Ixv.  11  it 
is  said :  "  Ye  are  they  that  forsake  the  Lord,  that  for- 
get my  holy  mountain,  that  prepare  a  table  for  that 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  61 

troop,  and  furnish  a  drink-offering  unto  that  num- 
ber." Our  translation  hardly  reaches  the  thought : 
Ye  prepare  a  table  for  Baal-Gad,  and  furnish  a  drink- 
offering  to  Meni, —  the  male  and  female  powers 
of  fortune.  We  read  in  Scripture  of  Moloch  and 
the  Queen  of  Heaven,  which  are  but  repetitions 
of  the  same  idea.  The  words  translated  "  grove" 
(Deuteronomy  xvi.  21,  Judges  vi.  25  and  28,  1  Kings 
xv.  12  and  xvi.  33)  are  generally  names  of  the  fe- 
male idol,  Astarte,  Ashtaroth,  the  Queen  of  Heaven, — 
the  female  power  in  nature  personified.  The  Greeks 
also  inherited  this  idea,  and  ripened  it  into  a  poetic 
perfection.  Prometheus,  when  he  is  bound  to  the 
rock,  consoles  himself,  amidst  his  sorrows,  that  he 
has  seen  two  dynasties  tumbled  from  Heaven,  and  he 
shall  yet  see  a  third  revolution  in  the  fall  of  Jupi- 
ter and  Juno  from  their  thrones ;  on  which  the  scho- 
liast remarks,  that  "  there  first  reigned  in  Heaven 
Ophion  and  Euronorne  ;  after  that,  Saturn  and  Ehea ; 
and,  still  later,  Jupiter  and  Juno ;  and  others  go 
still  higher,  and  say  that  Uranus  and  Ge  (i.  e.  Heaven 
and  Earth)  reigned  first,  —  the  one  male,  the  other 
female ;  in  all  these  changes  they  conceived  a  male 
and  female  power,  though  sometimes  discordant,  yet 
essentially  bound  together  in  love."  (Rosenmiiller  on 
Isaiah,  Yol.  III.  p.  105.)  Of  course  the  love  of  gods 
must  be  peculiar. 

The    same  idea    is    carried    out   by   Homer    more 


62  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

poetically  in  the  fourteenth  book  of  the  Iliad.  Juno 
suspects  that  her  celestial  husband  is  partial  to  the 
Trojans.  She  wishes  to  put  him  to  sleep,  that  Nep- 
tune, during  his  repose,  may  give  victory  to  the 
Greeks.  She  borrows  the  cestus  of  Venus,  and  adorns 
herself  with  every  grace,  and  takes  Sleep  with  her 
to  the  top  of  Ida,  that  her  design  may  succeed.  She 
goes ;  Jupiter  is  struck  with  her  charms,  and  in- 
vites her  to  repose  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  the 
throne  of  their  united  power.  The  arguments  by 
which  he  courts  his  wife  are  extraordinary,  and  such 
as  in  an  earthly  wife  would  be  fitted  to  move  indig- 
nation. He  enumerates  his  former  amours,  and  tells 
her  he  was  never  so  smitten  before :  — 

"  To  whom  the  sovereign  of  the  boundless  air, 
Juno !  thy  journey  thither  may  be  made 
Hereafter.    Let  us  turn  to  dalliance  now. 
For  never  goddess  poured,  nor  woman  yet, 
So  full  a  tide  of  love  into  my  breast ; 
I  never  loved  Ixion's  consort  thus, 
Who  bore  Pirithous,  wise  as  we  in  Heaven  j 
Nor  sweet  Acrisian  Danae,  from  whom 
Sprang  Perseus,  noblest  of  the  race  of  men; 
Nor  Phoenix'  daughter  fair,  of  whom  were  born 
Minos,  unmatched  but  by  the  powers  above, 
And  Rhadamanthus ;  nor  yet  Semele, 
Nor  yet  Alcmena,  who  in  Thebes  produced 
The  valiant  Hercules ;  and  though  my  son 
By  Semele  were  Bacchus,  joy  of  man ; 
Nor  Ceres,  nor  Latona,  nor — thyself. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  63 

As  now  I  love  thee,  and  my  soul  perceive 
Overwhelmed  with  sweetness  of  intense  desire." 

Iliad,  Book  XIV.,  Cowper's  Trans. 

Here  we  must  notice  several  things.  First,  it  is 
love,  celestial  love,  that  burns  in  the  bosom  of  Jove ; 
secondly,  it  is  inspired  by  celestial  beauty ;  thirdly, 
the  love  of  Jove  has  before  been  shown  to  individ- 
uals ;  this  love  gave  birth  to  heroes  and  lawgivers,  — 
Hercules,  Minos,  Rhadamanthus,  etc. ;  fourthly,  it  is 
cemented  on  Ida,  —  the  throne  of  celestial  power ; 
and,  lastly,  all  nature  rejoices  and  flourishes  under 
its  influence.  Now,  surely,  the  sensual  part  is  only 
a  figure, —  the  poetic  vestment  of  the  divine  idea. 
The  love  of  Jove  to  Ixion's  consort,  to  Semele,  Alc- 
mena,  Ceres,  Latona,  must  be  the  divine  love  mani- 
fested to  individuals,  —  the  love  between  the  individ- 
ual soul  and  God. 

The  critics  have  been  shocked  that  a  husband 
should  enumerate  his  amours  to  his  wife  on  such  an 
occasion  to  conciliate  her  favor.  To  be  sure,  if  the 
literal  and  human  is  to  predominate  in  the  story, 
nothing  can  be  more  absurd;  but  certainly  the  poet 
gives  every  indication  that  the  narrative  is  not  lit- 
eral,—  the  scene,  the  actors,  the  deed,  the  effects. 
It  is  an  expression  of  God's  general  love  to  all 
creatures,  and  his  special  love  to  individuals,  —  the 
chosen  of  Heaven, — in  the  examples  of  Semele,  Alc- 
mena,  etc.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  suppose  that  the 


64  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

poet  himself  nicely  analyzed  his  own  narrative,  or 
clearly  saw  his  own  design.  He  doubtless  followed 
some  poetic  tradition,  originating  in  the  laws  of  an- 
cient thought  ;  and,  like  nature,  which  felt  the  in- 
fluence of  the  divine  wedlock  of  his  gods  on  Olym- 
pus, though  she  saw  them  not,  wrapped  in  their 
golden  cloud,  so  his  mind  felt  the  influence  of  an 
early  speculation  which  it  had  never  unfolded.  We 
are  often  governed  by  conceptions  of  which  we  are 
only  half  conscious. 

The  same  diffusion  of  beauty  and  love  through  all 
creation  is  taught  in  the  hymn  to  Yenus,  which  passes 
under  Homer's  name  :  — 


Movcra  p,oi  evvene  epya  TroXv^pvo-ov  ' 
Kun-piSos,  TJre  Qeoio-iv  eVl  yXvKvv  ifiepov  a>po-ei/, 
Kai  r  eSa/idcro'aro  <p€Xa  K.ara6vr]r5)v  dv6pd)Tr(ovt 
olavovs  re  AitTrereay    /cat  depia  jrdvra, 

f)[l€V  0<f  fJTTflpOS  TToXAa  TCp(j)€i  ^S'  0(Ta    TTOVTOS- 

TTCKTIV  8'  epya  fjLep.r)\ev  cv(TT€<pdvov  Kvdfpelrjs. 

Which  is  imitated  by  Lucretius  (Liber  I.)  : 

"  JEriae  primum  volucres  te,  diva,  tuumque 
Significant  initium  percussae  corda  tua  vi." 

Which  Dryden  thus   translates  : 

"Delight  of  human  kind  and  gods  above, 
Parent  of  Rome,  propitious  queen  of  love, 
Whose  vital  power  air,  earth,  and  sea  supplies, 
And  breeds  whate'er  is  born  beneath  the  rolling  skies  ! 
For  every  kind,  by  thy  prolific  might, 
Springs  and  beholds  the  regions  of  the  light; 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  65 

Thee,  goddess,  thee  the  clouds  and  tempests  fear, 

And  at  thy  pleasing  presence  disappear: 

For  thee  the  land  in  fragrant  flowers  is  drest, 

For  thee  the  ocean  smiles  and  smoothes  her  wavy  breast, 

And  heaven  itself  with  more  serene  and  purer  light  is  blest. 

For  when  the  rising  spring  adorns  the  mead, 

And  a  new  scene  of  nature  stands  displayed, 

When  teeming  buds  and  cheerful  greens  appear, 

And  western  gales  unlock  the  lazy  year, 

The  joyous  birds  thy  welcome  first  express, 

Whose  native  songs  thy  genial  fire  confess ; 

Then  savage  beasts  bound  o'er  their  slighted  food, 

Struck  with  thy  darts,  and  tempt  the  raging  flood; 

All  Nature  is  thy  gift;  earth,  air,  and  sea, 

Of  all  that  breathes,  the  various  progeny, 

Stung  with  delight,  is  goaded  on  by  thee. 

O'er  barren  mountains,  o'er  the  flowing  plain, 

The  leafy  forest  and  the  liquid  main, 

Extends  thy  uncontrolled  and  boundless  reign. 

In  the  third  Georgic,  Yirgil  has  copied  the  same 
sentiment  :  — 

"  Thus  all  that  wings  the  air  and  cleaves  the  flood, 
Herds  that  or  graze  the  plain  or  haunt  the  wood, 
Rush  to  like  flames  when  kindred  passions  move, 
And  man  and  brute  obey  the  power  of  love." 

Southeby's  Translation. 

Perhaps  the  address  of  ^Eneas  to  his  goddess- 
mother,  in  the  first  book  of  the  J^neid,  comes  still 
nearer  to  this  complex  passion.  It  is  true  the  sexes 
are  reversed,  —  the  male-mortal  loves  the  female- 
divine,  and  the  dress  is  maternal  instead  of  con- 

E 


66  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

jugal;    but  still  the   spirit  and   the   design  seem  to 
be   the   same  :  — 

"  Dixit,  et  avertens  rosea  cervice  refulsit, 
Ambrosiaeque  comae  divinum  vertice  odorem 
Spiravere  ;  pedes  vestis  defluxit  ad  imos, 
Et  vera  incessu  patuit  dea.    Ille,  ubi  matrem 
Agnovit,  tali  fugientem  est  voce  secutus : 
Quid  natum  toties,  crudelis  tu  quoque,  falsis 
Ludis  imaginibus  ?  cur  dextrae  jungere  dextram 
Non  datur,  ac  veras  audire  et  reddere  voces  ?  " 

In  Catullus's  poem   on   the  marriage  of  Peleus  to 
Thetis,  something  similar  is  shadowed  out :  — 

"  Turn  Thetidis  Peleus  incensus  fertur  atnore : 
Turn  Thetis  humanos  non  dispexit  hymaneos  : 
Turn  Thetidi  pater  ipse  jugandum  Pelea  sensit." 

We  see  in  all  these  passages  a  great  conception 
laboring  for  its  birth.  We  must  remember  that 
Polytheism  was  an  outward  and  political  religion. 
Grecian  wisdom  was  essentially  sceptical ;  the  Greeks 
questioned  all  things,  and  held  fast  nothing.  "  The 
Greeks,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  seek  after  wisdom : "  of 
course  they  never  find  it ;  and  their  poetry  is  less 
enthusiastic  than  the  fervid  children  of  the  East. 
They  recognized  the  principle  that  love  was  the 
reigning  power  of  nature ;  but  their  colder  devotion 
seldom  addressed  the  Deity  in  such  fervent  lan- 
guage. 

We  have,  however,  in  Roman  literature,  one   pro- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  67 

duction  which  comes  nearer  to  this  mystic  style. 
The  fable  of  the  Golden  Ass,  by  Apuleius,  is  sup- 
posed by  Warburton  to  be  itself  a  mystic  allegory. 
"  Apuleius  of  Madaura,"  says  he  (Divine  Legation, 
Yol.  II.  Book  IY.  Sect.  4),  "  in  Africa,  was  a  deter- 
mined Platonist ;  and,  like  the  Platonist  of  that  age, 
an  inveterate  enemy  of  Christianity."  The  object  of 
this  fable,  therefore,  by  which  the  hero  was  trans- 
formed into  an  ass,  and  restored,  was  to  show  that 
vice  brutalizes  the  mind,  and  the  pagan  religion 
—  without  Christianity — had  a  power  to  renew  and 
restore  it.  The  word  renatus,  or  born  again,  is  ap- 
plied to.  the  initiated  pagan.  But,  however  it  may  be 
with  the  general  story,  most  critics,  I  believe,  agree 
that  the  particular  episode  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  in 
the  fifth  and  sixth  books,  is  allegorical.  "  There  was 
no  man,"  says  Warburton,  "  though  he  considered 
the  Golden  Ass  only  as  a  work  of  mere  amusement, 
but  saw  the  fable  of  Cupid  and  Psyche  to  be  a 
philosophical  allegory  of  the  progress  of  the  soul  to 
perfection,  in  the  possession  of  Divine  love  and  the 
reward  of  immortality."  (Divine  Legation.)  The 
story  is  this.  In  a  certain  city  lived  a  king  and  a 
queen,  who  had  three  daughters,  the  youngest  of 
whom  was  named  Psyche,  or  human  soul.  The  two 
eldest  were  handsome,  but  the  youngest  excelled  all 
modes  of  beauty, —  all  bounds  of  praise.  Everybody 
that  saw  her  was  struck  dumb  with  admiration,  until 


68  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

» 

finally  she  seemed  to  draw  away  the  devotion  from 
Yenus  herself.  No  one  went  to  Paphos ;  no  one  to 
Cnidus,  nor  even  to  Cythera.  Her  temples  were 
deserted,  her  statues  without  chaplets,  and  her  for- 
saken altars  covered  with  cold  ashes,  and  all  men's 
adoration  paid  to  this  usurping  virgin.  Yenus  was 
incensed,  and  resolved  to  punish  this  rival  beauty. 
In  the  mean  time,  Psyche,  when  her  sisters  were 
married,  got  no  husband.  She  had  no  lovers.  They 
admired,  no  doubt,  her  divine  beauty;  but  then 
they  admired  it  as  they  would  a  statue  exquisitely 
wrought.  It  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  the  whole  de- 
tail. An  oracle  says  that  she  must  be  placed  on  a 
lofty  mountain ;  she  must  not  expect  a  mortal  spouse ; 
but  Jupiter  would  provide.  She  is  finally  snatched 
away  from  her  parents,  and  placed  in  a  splendid 
palace  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  is  wedded 
to  an  invisible  husband,  who  meets  her  every 
night,  and  is  invisible  during  the  day.  She  finds 
at  last  it  is  Cupid ;  and,  as  soon  as  she  sees 
him,  as  she  does  clandestinely  one  night,  she  is 
in  love  with  Love  himself.  She  several  times, 
however,  betrays  important  trusts,  and  provokes  the 
anger  of  Venus  and  her  sisters ;  has  awful  tasks 
assigned  her  by  the  goddess,  the  last  of  which  is  to 
descend  to  hell  through  a  dark,  infernal  avenue ;  and 
she  has  more  minute  directions  given  her  than  ^Eneas 
had  when  he  went  down  to  the  infernal  regions. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  69 

She  goes  to  get  a  portion  of  the  beauty  of  Proser- 
pine, which  she  is  to  bring  up  in  a  box,  and  deliver 
to  Venus,  but  this  box  she  is  not  to  open.  But 
female  curiosity  prevails,  and  she  does  open  it ;  and 
she  is  on  the  -verge  of  everlasting  destruction.  But 
she  is  rescued  by  Cupid,  whom  she  has  wounded, 
and  who  has  recovered  of  his  wounds.  Then  all  is 
prosperous  and  happy.  A  sumptuous  wedding-supper 
was  prepared.  The  husband,  reclining  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  table,  embraced  Psyche  in  his  bosom ;  in 
like  manner  Jupiter  was  seated  with  Juno,  and,  after 
them,  the  other  gods  and  goddesses  in  their  proper 
order.  Then  Jupiter  was  presented  with  a  bowl  of 
nectar,  —  the  wine  of  the  gods, — by  the  rustic  youth 
Ganymede,  his  cup-bearer  ;  but  Bacchus  supplied  the 
rest.  Vulcan  prepared  the  supper ;  the  Hours  empur- 
pled everything  with  roses  and  other  fragrant  flowers ; 
the  Graces  scattered  balsam;  the  Muses  sang  melo- 
diously ;  Apollo  accompanied  the  lyre  with  his  voice ; 
and  beautiful  Yenus  danced  with  steps  in  unison 
with  the  delightful  music.  The  order,  too,  of  the 
entertainment  was,  that  the  Muses  should  sing  the 
chorus,  Satyr  us  should  play  on  the  flute,  and  Panis- 
cus  on  the  pipe.  Thus  Psyche  came  lawfully  into 
the  hands  of  Cupid ;  and  at  length  a  daughter  was 
born  to  them,  whom  we  denominate 


70  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

HAPPINESS. 

REMEMBER,  now,  the  names,  —  Psyche  and  Cupid, 
soul  and  love.  Consider  her  wanderings,  her  suffer- 
ings and  sorrows,  her  deliverance  by  a  bleeding  god, 
whom  she  had  wounded,  but  who  has  recovered  from 
his  wounds,  —  consider  the  long  conflict  and  final 
triumph, — and  who  does  not  see  a  deeper  import  un- 
folded, in  a  confused  and  complex  manner,  under  all 
this  mythology  ?  The  soul  becomes  wretched  by  fall- 
ing into  grosser  love  ;  it  must  be  restored  by  recov- 
ered purity  and  consequent  bliss. 

I  may  be  accused  of  being  fanciful ;  but  I  cannot 
help  suspecting  that  in  the  minute  directions  which 
the  TOWER  gives  to  Psyche  in  her  descent  to  the 
infernal  regions,  I  see  a  common  impression  of  the 
necessity  of  revelation  to  us  weak  mortals  when  we 
deal  with  the  sublime  subjects  of  religion.  "You 
ought  not,"  says  this  wonderful  tower,  "  to  pass 
through  those  shades  with  empty  hands,  but  should 
take  a  sop  of  barley-bread,  soaked  in  hydromel,  in 
each  hand,  and  in  your  mouth  two  pieces  of  money. 
And  when  you  have  accomplished  a  good  part  of 
your  deadly  journey,  you  will  meet  a  lame  ass, 
laden  with  wood,  and  a  driver  as  lame  as  himself, 
who  will  ask  you  to  reach  him  certain  cords  to 
fasten  the  burden  which  has  fallen  from  the  ass ; 
but  be  careful  that  you  pass  by  him  in  silence." 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  71 

And  again :  "  The  poor  man  dying  ought  to  pre- 
pare his  viaticum ;  but  if  he  has  no  money  at 
hand,  will  no  one  suffer  him  to  expire  ?  To  this 
squalid  old  man  give  one  of  the  pieces  of  money 
which  you  carry  with  you,  yet  in  such  a  manner 
that  he  may  take  it  with  his  own  hand  from  your 
mouth.  While  you  are  passing  over  the  sluggish 
river,  a  certain  dead  old  man,  floating  on  its  sur- 
face, and  raising  his  putrid  hand,  will  entreat  you 
to  take  him  into  the  boat.  Beware,  however,  of 
yielding  to  an  impulse  of  unlawful  pity.  Having 
passed  over  the  river,  and  proceeding  to  a  little 
distance  beyond  it,  you  will  see  certain  old  women, 
weaving  a  web,  who  will  request  you  to  lend  them 
a  helping  hand ;  but  it  is  not  lawful  for  you  to 
touch  the  web.  For  all  these,  and  many  other  par- 
ticulars, are  snares  prepared  by  Yenus,  that  you  may 
drop  one  of  the  sops  out  of  your  hands.  But  do 
not  suppose  that  this  would  be  a  trifling  loss  ;  since 
the  want  of  only  one  of  those  sops  would  pre- 
vent your  return  to  light."  Now,  while  I  allow 
that  these  minute  directions,  for  which  we  can  see 
no  natural  reason,  are  skilful  touches  of  mysticism, 
by  which  we  are  taught  to  wonder  and  shudder  at 
the  laws  of  the  unseen  world,  yet  they  also  show 
that  the  heathen  had  an  impression,  that,  in  dealing 
with  these  mysteries,  man  could  not  be  left  safely 
to  his  own  direction.  The  spiritual  powers  must 


72  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

teach  us  the  conditions  on  which  spiritual  benefits 
must  be  obtained.  In  a  word,  it  was  a  distorted 
confession  that  man  needs  a  divine  revelation. 

Something,  I  think,  of  this  mode  of  indicating  is 
found  in  the  Bible.  Why  was  man  separated  from 
the  tree  of  life,  lest  he  should  taste  and  live  for- 
ever ?  (Genesis  iii.  22.)  Why  does  the  Saviour  say 
that  a  certain  kind  of  unclean  spirits  goeth  not 
out  but  by  fasting  and  prayer  ?  (Matthew  xvii.  21.) 
Why  does  Peter  so  darkly  intimate  that  Christ  went 
and  preached  to  the  spirits  in  prison  ?  (1  Peter  iii. 
19.)  It  is,  perhaps,  to  show  us  how  utterly  hopeless 
is  any  analysis  of  ours  of  these  divine  secrets,  and 
that  we  must  leave  to  God  his  own  purposes,  and 
the  degree  of  light  in  which  they  must  be  shown. 

Something  of  this  turn  of  thinking  is  found  in  the 
earliest  history  of  Rome.  Numa  was  inspired  by 
a  celestial  bride.  "  Deorum  metum  injiciendum  ra- 
tus  est  qui  quum  descendere  ad  animos  sine  aliquo 
commento  miraculi  non  posset,  simulat  sibi  quum 
dea  Egeria  congressus  nocturnos  esse."  And  even 
the  cold  and  philosophic  Cicero,  catching  a  gleam 
of  enthusiasm  from  Plato,  confesses  :  "  Formam  qui- 
dem  ipsam,  Marce  fili,  et  tanquaiii  faciem  honesti 
vides:  quae  si  oculis  cerneretur,  mirabiles  amores  (ut 
ait  Plato)  excitaret  sapientiae."  (De  Officiis,  Lib.  I. 
Sect.  5.)  And  again :  "  Oculorum,  inquit  Plato,  est 
in  nobis  sensus  acerrimus:  quibus  sapientiam  non 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  73 

cernimus.  Quam  ilia  ardentes  amores  excitaret  sui, 
si  videretur."  (De  Finibus,  Lib.  II.  Sect.  16.)  This 
same  love  to  an  object  half  personified  is  taught 
in  that  remarkable  book,  the  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON, 
found  in  our  Apocrypha  ;  a  book  which  has  a  Pla- 
tonic tinge,  and  uses  this  soft  and  beautiful  color- 
ing. Speaking  of  wisdom  the  author  says  :  'Ariils 
yap  can  rrjs  rov  6eov  Swa//.eo>9,  KCLI  aTroppoia  TTJS  rov 
80^5  elXiKpivris  '  Sia  TOVTO  ovbev 


apevov  el?  avryv  TrapepTriTTTei'  ATravyacr^a  jap 
<£tt)T09  di'Slov  /cal  ecroTrrpov  aKr)\{&a)Tov  TT}?  rov  Seov 
evepyetas  KOI  el/cow  rfjs  dya0orrjro^  avrov,  —  "For  she 
is  the  invisible  emanation  of  the  power  of  God, 
a  pure  efflux  from  his  all-potent  glory  ;  therefore 
nothing  contaminating  can  fall  into  her  ;  she  is  a 
radiance  from  eternal  light,  the  unspotted  mirror  of 
God's  energy,  an  image  of  his  goodness  ;  "  and  there- 
fore in  the  next  chapter  he  says  (verse  second)  : 
Tavryv  e(j)l\rjo-a  Kal  e^e^rrjaa  etc  i/eoT?7T09  /-tow,  Kal 
vvjjL<f>r]v  ayayeaOai,  t/zafTft)  /cat  epaa-Tr}?  eye- 
rov  tcchXovs  avT^9,—  "I  loved  her,  and  sought 
her  out  from  her  youth  ;  I  sought  to  lead  her  as 
bride,  and  was  the  .lover  of  her  beauty." 

If  we  pass  to  the  Eastern  world,  —  to  those  "  souls 

made   of  fire   and   children   of  the   sun,"  —  we   shall 

find  that  this  form  of  devotion  is  very  common.     I 

shall  not  go    into    detail,    nor  repeat  the  quotations 

4 


7^  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

from  Sir  William  Jones  and  others ;  all  travellers 
tell  us,  all  scholars  agree,  that  to  these  ardent  peo- 
ple such  language  has  become  familiar.  "  They 
believe,"  says  Sir  William  (i.  e.  these  Eastern  peo- 
ple), "  that  the  Deity  pervades  the  universe  ;  that 
he  alone  is  perfect  benevolence,  truth,  and  beauty; 
that  all  the  beauties  of  nature  are  faint  resem- 
blances only  —  like  images  in  a  mirror  —  of  the  divine 
charms ;  that  we  must  beware  of  attachment  to 
such  phantoms,  and  attach  ourselves  exclusively  to 
God,  who  truly  exists  in  us,  and  we  exist  solely  in 
him  ;  that  we  retain,  even  in  this  forlorn  state  of 
separation  from  our  Beloved,  the  idea  of  heavenly 
beauty  and  the  remembrance  of  our  primeval  vows; 
that  sweet  music,  gentle  breezes,  fragrant  flowers, 
perpetually  renew  the  primary  idea,  refreshing  our 
fading  memory,  and  melt  us  with  tender  affections ; 
and,  by  abstracting  our  soul  from  vanity,  that  is, 
from  all  but  God,  approximate  to  his  essence  in 
our  final  union,  with  which  will  consist  our  supreme 
beatitude."  The  later  Platonists  have  copied  all  this. 
Plotinus  was  four  times  in  his  life  united  to  God, 
not  only  by  power,  but  by  ineifable  energy.  In  his 
sixty-eighth  year  God  beamed  into  his  heart,  —  not 
having  any  form  or  idea,  but  seated  above  thought, 
above  intelligence.  (See  Bale's  Diet.,  Art.  Plotinus, 
note  K.)  They  were  inebriated  with  Divine  love, — 
an  expression  which  Augustine  uses  in  his  Confes- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  75 

sions.  Lady  Montague  and  Lord  Byron  have  noticed 
the  Turkish  love-song,  The  Nightingale  and  the  Rose : 
"  The  nightingale  now  wanders  in  the  vines  ;  her  pas- 
sion is  to  seek  roses.  I  went  down  to  admire  the 
beauty  of  the  vines ;  the  sweetness  of  your  charms 
hath  ravished  my  soul." 

"For  there  the  Rose  o'er  crag  or  vale, 

Sultana  of  the  Nightingale, 
The  maid  for  whom  this  melody 
His  thousand  songs  are  heard  on  high, 

Blooms,  blushing  to  her  lover's  tale, 

His  queen,  his   garden  queen,  his  Rose, 

Unbent  by  winds,  unchilled  by  snows, 

Far  from  the  winters  of  the  West, 

By  every  breeze  and  season  blest, 

Returns  the  sweets  by  nature  given 

In  softest  incense  back  to  heaven ; 

And  grateful  yields  that  smiling  sky 

Her  fairest  hue  and  fragrant  sigh." 

The  Giaour. 

Eespecting  the  Persian  poet,  we  have  the  testi- 
mony of  Sir  John  Malcolm.  "Hafiz,  said  Khan  Sa- 
hib, has  the  singular  good  fortune  of  being  alike 
praised  by  saints  and  sinners.  His  odes  are  sung 
by  the  young  and  the  joyous,  who,  by  taking  them 
in  their  literal  sense,  find  nothing  but  excitement 
to  pass  the  spring  of  life  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
world's  luxuries ;  while  the  contemplative  sage,  con- 
sidering this  poet  as  a  religious  enthusiast,  attaches 
a  mystical  meaning  to  every  line,  and  repeats  his 


76  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

odes  as  he  would  an  orison.  At  the  time  of  his 
death,  continued  my  friend,  there  were  many  who 
deemed  his  works  sinful  and  impious.  These  went 
so  far  as  to  arrest  the  procession  of  his  funeral. 
The  dispute  rose  high,  and  the  parties  were  likely 
to  come  to  blows,  when  it  was  agreed  that  a  fdl, 
or  lot,  should  be  taken  from  his  book.  If  it  was 
favorable  to  religion,  his  friends  were  to  proceed ; 
but  if  calculated  to  promote  vice,  they  promised  not 
to  carry  his  body  to  the  sacred  ground  appropriated 
for  his  reception. 

"  The  volume  of  odes  was  produced,  and  it  was 
opened  by  a  person  whose  eyes  were  bound ;  seven 
pages  were  counted  back,  when  the  heaven-directed 
finger  pointed  to  one  of  his  inspired  stanzas  : 

'  Withdraw  not  your  steps  from  the  obsequies  of  Hafiz ; 
Though  immersed  in  sin,  he  will  rise  into  Paradise/ 

"  The  admirers  of  the  poet  shouted  with  delight,  and 
those  who  had  doubted  joined  in  carrying  his  re- 
mains to  a  shrine  near  Shiraz,  where,  from  that  day 
to  this,  his  tomb  is  visited  by  pilgrims  of  all  classes 
and  ages. 

"  I  found  that  my  friend,  Khan  Sahib,  however  par- 
tial from  his  habits  to  a  literal  interpretation,  dwelt 
upon  others  which  he  deemed  mystical,  with  all  the 
rapture  of  a  Sofee."  (Sketches  of  Persia,  Vol.  II. 
1827,  London.) 

I  am  aware  that  Dr.  Noyes  objects  that  the  rays- 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  77 

tic  poetry  of  Persia  and  Hindostan  is  founded  on  a 
philosophy  different  from  the  Jewish.  They  were 
Pantheistic  mystics.  But  I  cannot  feel  the  force  of 
his  objection.  The  difference  he  alleges  seems  to 
me  hardly  to  touch  the  point.  I  suppose  in  all 
countries  and  all  ages  love  and  devotion  exist,  and 
that  it  is  natural  to  express  them  by  the  language  of 
the  one  and  the  ardor  of  the  other.  It  should  be 
remembered  that  the  language  of  love  is  in  antag- 
onism to  pantheism ;  and  that  both  Jew  and  Gentile 
struggled  and  were  obliged  to  struggle  to  approximate 
the  divine  nature  by  anthropopathic  terminology.* 

If  we  pass  to  the  Christian  writers  the  examples 
are  abundant.  There  have  always  been  a  class  of 
Christians  whose  glowing  love  has  sought  to  express 
itself  in  the  only  language  which  it  found  propor- 
tionate in  the  least  degree  to  its  inexpressible  emo- 
tions. This  style  of  speaking  and  writing  began  early 
and  continued  long.  The  famous  expression  of  Ig- 
natius, in  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  chap.  iii.  3, 
"MY  LOVE  is  CRUCIFIED,"  is,  no  doubt,  susceptible  of 
a  double  meaning,  the  objective  and  the  subjective. 
My  Love,  my  heavenly  bridegroom,  was  literally  cru- 
cified for  my  redemption ;  and  through  his  atonement, 
my  love,  my  carnal  love  of  the  world,  is  crucified 
mystically  in  my  heart.  For  he  goes  on  to  say, 
"  and  the  fire  that  is  within  me  does  not  desire 

*  dv6pa)no7ra6S>s  /iei/  Aeyoircu,  6f07rpfir<b$  8e  voovvrai.  —  Athanasius. 


78  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

any  water ;  but,  being  alive,  and  springing  within 
me,  says,  Come  to  the  Father."  Or,  if  we  should 
take  another  reading,  Trvp  <j>i\ov\ov,  it  comes  to  the 
same  thing.  The  writer  is  using  the  same  language 
which  Paul  does :  "  But  God  forbid  that  I  should 
glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
by  whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  me  and  I  unto 
the  world."  The  real  always  implies  the  mystic  cru- 
cifixion in  the  heart  of  a  believer,  and  Christ  is 
called  his  love  as  an  expressive  figure  of  the  most 
grateful  affection.  Something  of  this  taste  appears  in 
the  Shepherd  of  Hernias,  especially  in  his  first  vision, 
where  he  sees  the  same  woman  addressing  him  from 
Heaven  whom  he  had  before  beheld  washing  in  the 
Tiber,  and  who  now  accuses  him  of  his  former  love ; 
intimating,  no  doubt,  that  human  passion  should  be 
supplanted  by  the  divine.  Tertullian  counsels  the 
women  in  his  day  (with  some  hard  metaphors,  it 
must  be  owned)  to  have  their  eyes  painted  with 
chastity ;  the  word  of  God  inserted  into  their  ears ; 
Christ's  yoke  tied  to  their  hair ;  to  subject  them- 
selves to  their  husbands.  If  they  would  do  so,  they 
should  be  comely  enough,  clothe  themselves  with  the 
silk  of  sanctity,  damask  of  devotion,  purple  of  piety 
and  chastity,  and  so  painted,  they  shall  have  God 
himself  to  be  a  suitor.  "  Oculos  depictos  verecundia, 
inserentes  in  aures  sermonem  Dei,  annectentes  crini- 
bus  jugum  Christi,  caput  maritis  subjicientes,  sic  facile 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  79 

et  satis  ornatae  :  vestite  vos  serico  probitatis,  byssino 
sanctitatis,  purpura  pudicitiae ;  taliter  pigmentatae 
Deum  habebitis  amatorem."  (De  Cultu  Mulierum.) 
Those  holy  virgins  of  old,  "  quae  Christo  spiritualiter 
nubunt,"  were  considered  as  consecrated  in  this  way, 
even  before  the  establishment  of  regular  monasteries 
and  convents.  Each  one  was  called  Sponsa  Christi. 
Jerome,  in  writing  to  Eustochium,  says  he  may  well 
call  her  My  Lady,  as  she  is  entitled  to  be  called  the 
spouse  of  his  Master.  The  language  of  Augustine 
is  colored  by  the  expressions  of  love  and  the  wine- 
table.  "  Quis  mihi  dabit  adquescere  in  te  ?  Quis 
mihi  dabit,  ut  venias  in  cor  meum,  et  inebries  illud 
ut  obliviscar  mala  mea,  et  unum  bonum  meum  am- 
plectar  te?"  (Confessions,  Lib.  I.  c.  5.)  "0  that 
thou  wouldst  give  me  to  rest  in  thee  !  0  that  thou 
wouldst  grant  me  the  favor  to  enter  my  heart  and 
intoxicate  it  with  thy  love,  that  I  might  forget  my 
sorrows  arid  embrace  thee,  my  sole,  sufficient  good ! " 
And  again :  "  0,  thou  highest,  best,  most  powerful, 
most  omnipotent,  most  compassionate,  most  just,  most 
secret,  most  seen,  most  beautiful, "  most  brave,  stable, 
incomprehensible ;  immutable,  yet  changing  all  things, 
never  new,  never  old;  innovating  and  bringing  the 
proud  to  decay ;  always  acting,  always  quiet ;  collect- 
ing, but  wanting  not ; .  bearing  and  filling  and  protect- 
ing, creating,  cherishing,  and  maturing ;  seeking,  when 
nothing  is  deficient  in  thee  !  Thou  lovest,  but  art 


80  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

never  in  commotion ;  thou  art  jealous,  but  calm ; 
thou  repentest  without  sorrow,  and  changest  thy 
works,  though  thy  counsels  never  change,"  —  opera 
mutas,  nee  mutas  consilium^  etc.  He  then  calls  the 
object  of  his  passion  "  my  God,  my  life,  my  holy 
sweetness."  (Confessions,  Lib.  I.  Sect.  4.)  Again, 
in  the  Third  Book,  sixth  section,  after  observing  that 
the  beauty  of  created  things  is  not  the  beauty  of 
God,  he  goes  on  to  say :  "  We  see  these  things  with 
carnal  eyes,  in  common  with  the  flocks  and  birds ; 
yet  certius  imaginamur  ea,  quam  ex  eis  suspica- 
mur  alia  grandia  et  infmita,  quae  omnino  nulla  sunt, 
qualibus  ego  tune  pascebar  inanibus  ;  et  non  pasce- 
bar.  At  tu,  meus  amor,  in  quern  deficio,  ut  fortis 
sim,  nee  ista  corpora  es,  quae  videmus,  quamquam 
in  coelo,  nee  ea  es,  quae  non  videmus  ibi,  quia  tu 
ista  condidisti,  nee  in  summis  tuis  conditionibus 
habes."  Again,  in  the  Fourth  Book,  he  paves  the 
way  to  this  imagery  by  his  previoiis  philosophy : 
"  Num.  amamus  aliquid  nisi  pulchrum  ?  Quod  est 
ergo  pulchrum  ?  et  quid  est  pulchritudo  ?  Quid  est, 
quod  nos  adlicit,  et  conciliat  rebus  quas  amamus? 
Nisi  enim  esset  in  eis  decus  et  species,  nullo  modo 
nos  ad  se  moverent.  Et  animadvertebam  et  vide- 
bam  in  ipsis  corporibus  aliud  esse  quasi  totum  et 
ideo  pulchrum ;  aliud  autem,  quod  rideo  deceret, 
quoniam  apte  adcommodaretur  alicui,  sicut  pars  cor- 
poris  ad  universum  suum,  aut  calceamentum  ad  pe- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  81 

dem  et  similia."  — "  Do  we  love  anything  unless  it 
is  beautiful  ?  What,  then,  is  this  beautiful  thing, 
and  what  is  beauty  itself?  What  is  it  that  attracts 
and  conciliates  us  to  things  we  love  ?  For  if  there 
were  not  a  grace  and  fairness  in  these  things,  they 
would  by  no  means  draw  us  to  themselves.  Now,  I 
observed  and  saw  in  bodies  themselves  another  total- 
ity, which  was  therefore  beautiful ;  another  grace, 
which,  owing  to  the  fitness  of  its  parts,  was  there- 
fore becoming ;  as  a  part  of  the  body  to  the  whole, 
or  a  slipper  to  the  foot,  or  any  similar  correspond- 
ence of  a  part  to  the  whole."  Once  more  (Book 
X.  Sect.  27)  :  "  Sero  te  amavi,  pulchritudo  tarn  an- 
tiqua  et  tarn  nova,  sero  te  amavi.  Et  ecce  intus 
eras  et  ego  foris  et  ibi  te  quaerebam ;  et  in  ista 
formosa,  quae  fecisti,  deformis  irruebam.  Mecum 
eras,  et  tecum  non  eram.  Ea  me  tenebant  longe  a 
te,  quae,  si  in  te  non  essent,  non  essent.  Yocasti 
et  clamasti  et  rupisti  surditatem  meam.  Coruscasti, 
splenduisti  et  fugasti  caecitatem  meam.  Fragrasti  et 
duxi  spiritum,  et  anhelo  tibi.  Gustavi  et  esurio  et 
sitio.  Tetigisti  me  et  exarsi  in  pacem  tuam."  The 
ancient  interpreters  generally  considered  this  book  — 
Solomon's  Song  —  as  the  expression  of  inexpressible 
love  ;  teaching,  as  Theodoret  says,  the  higher  kinds 
of  Divine  goodness.  Gregory  the  Great  says  :  "  In  hoc 
libro  amoris  quasi  corporei  verba  ponuntur,  ut  a 
corpore  suo  anima,  per  serrnones  consuetos,  dicussa, 

p 


82  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

recalescat,  et  per  verba  amoris,  qui  infra  est,  excite- 
tur  ad  amorem,  qui  supra  est."  Nothing  can  be 
more  true,  or  more  neatly  expressed.  "  In  this 
book  the  words  of  corporeal  love  are  placed,  that  the 
soul,  shaking  off  the  body,  might  learn  from  its 
accustomed  passions  to  rekindle  ;  and,  by  using  the 
terms  of  a  meaner  passion,  rise  to  a  nobler  flame." 
And  Theodoret  says :  "  This  book  teaches  TTJV  fjuvan- 
K7]v  a-vvdfaiav,  the  mystic  union  of  the  bride  and 
bridegroom."  (See  Suicerus,  Lex.,  Yol.  I.  p.  551.) 
In  a  later  age,  in  the  letters  which  Abelard  writes 
to  his  Eloisa :  "  De  hujus  excellentia  praerogativae 
sponsa  in  Canticis  exultans,  ilia,  ut  ita  dicam,  quam 
Moyses  duxit,  Aethiopissa  dicit,  Nigra  sum,  sed  for- 
mosa,  filiae  Hierusalem.  Ideo  dilexit  me  Rex  et  intro- 
duxit  me  in  cubiculum  suum.  Et  rursum,  Nolite  con- 
siderare  quod  fusca  sum,  quia  decoloravit  me  Sol.  In 
quibus  quidem  verbis  cum  generaliter  anima  descri- 
batur  contemplativa,  quae  specialiter  Sponsa  Christi 
dicitur,  expressius  tamen  ad  vos  hoc  pertinere  ipse 
etiam  vester  exterior  habitus  loquitur.  Ipse  quippe 
cultus  exterior  nigrorum,  aut  vilium  indumentum, 
instar  lugubris  habitus  bonarum  viduarum  mortuos, 
quos  delexerant  viros  plangentium,  vos  in  hoc  mun- 
do,  juxta  Apostolorum,  vere  viduas  et  desolatas 
ostendit,  stipendiis  Ecclesiae  sustinendas."  (Abelard 
to  Eloisa,  Epistle  III.  p.  73.)  And  Bernard,  his 
enemy  and  rival,  agrees  in  the  same  kind  of  inter- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  83 

pretation :  "  The  king  hath  brought  me  into  his 
wine-cellar  (banqueting-house  in  our  translation), — 
speaking  of  this  prayer  (i.e.  the  prayer  of  silence), 
this  sanctuary  of  the  great  king,  in  which  he  enters 
with  a  few  whom  he  hides  for  that  hour  from  the 
world ;  this  place  of  quiet ;  this  vision  which  does  not 
affright,  but  cherish ;  does  not  weary,  but  calm ;  does 
not  bring  cravings  or  distractions,  but  pacifies  and  fully 
satisfies.  But,  alas  1  the  hour  is  rare  and  the  dura- 
tion short,"  —  Sed  heu !  rara  hora  et  parva  mora. 
(See  Sermon  XXIII.  on  Canticles.)  And  again :  "  0 
sweet  commerce !  but  the  moment  is  short  and  the 
experience  rare.  Some  one  may  ask  what  this  is  to 
enjoy  the  Divine  Word.  Let  him  seek  one  who  has 
experienced  it.  Or  if  that  happiness  were  granted 
me,  do  you  think  I  can  explain  what  is  unspeakable  ? 
It  is  one  thing  that  passes  between  my  soul  and  God, 
and  another  between  you  and  me.  That  I  could  feel, 
but  could  not  utter.  If  you  are  desirous  to  know 
what  it  is  to  enjoy  the  Word,  prepare  for  Him,  not 
your  ear,  but  your  soul.  The  tongue  cannot  express 
this  ;  yet  grace  teaches  it.  It  is  concealed  from  the 
prudent  and  the  wise,  and  is  revealed  to  little  ones. 
Humility  is  a  great  and  sublime  virtue,  which  obtains 
what  is  not  taught,  which  acquires  what  cannot  be 
learned."  (Sermon  LXXXV.)  I  quote  from  Butler's 
Lives  of  the  Saints,  Vol.  II.  p.  673.  That  most  pop- 
ular book,  Thomas  a  Kempis,  which  has  passed  through 


84  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

more  editions  than  any  other  volume  except  the  Bible, 
and  which  first  saw  the  light  in  1488,  adopts  the 
same  style  :  "  Para  mihi  coenaculum  grande  stratum, 
et  faciam  apud  te  Pascha  cum  discipulis  meis.  Ex- 
clude totum  saeculum,  etc.  Omnis  namque  amans 
suo  dilecto  amatori  optimum  et  pulcherrimum  prae- 
parat  locum  quia  in  hoc  cognoscitur  affectus  suscipien- 
tis  dilectum."  (De,  Imitatione  Christi,  Lib.  XIV.  c.  12.) 
"  Make  ready  for  me  a  large  upper-room  furnished, 
and  I  will  make  the  pash  (i.  e.  Passover)  with  thee 
and  my  disciples.  For  every  lover  prepare th  the  best 
and  fairest  room  for  his  dearly-beloved  ;  and  hereby 
is  known  the  affection  of  him  that  entertaineth  his 
beloved."  Again  (Lib.  XIY.  c.  13)  :  "  Hoc  oro,  hoc 
desidero,  ut  tibi  totus  uniar,  et  cor  meum  ab  omnibus 
creatis  rebus  abstraham,  magis  per  sacram  communio- 
nem  vel  frequentem  celebrationem,  celestia  et  aeternia 
sapere  discam.  Ah,  Domine  Deus  !  quando  ero  tecum 
totus  unitus  et  absorptus,  meique  totaliter  oblitus  ? 
Tu  in  me  et  ego  in  te  ;  sic  nos  pariter  in  unum 
manere  concede.  Yere  tu  es  dilectus  meus,  electus 
ex  millibus,  in  quo  conplacuit  animae  meae  habitare 
omnibus  diebus  vitae  suae." — "Verily,  thou  art  my 
beloved,  the  choicest  amongst  thousands,  in  whom  my 
soul  is  well  pleased  to  dwell  all  the  days  of  her  life." 
It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  quotations  from  such 
writers  ;  one  more  shall  suffice.  Take  the  case  of  M. 
Magdalen  of  Pazzi,  an  Italian  saint  canonized  in  1669. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  85 

The  spirit  of  God  threw  her  on  the  ground  in  an 
ecstasy,  when  her  countenance  was  shining  like  that 
of  an  incarnate  seraph.  Christ  gave  her  so  large  a 
share  of  his  passion,  that  frequently,  under  an  aliena- 
tion of  her  senses,  she  would  throw  herself  on  the 
ground,  exclaiming :  "  0  Jesus,  I  can  endure  no  longer, 
—  I  cannot  partake  any  more  of  thy  pains!"  Often 
in  these  amorous  transports  (divinely  amorous)  she 
would  join  herself  close  to  a  crucifix,  and  suck  a  divine 
liquor  thence,  which  filled  her  soul  with  unspeakable 
sweetness.  Her  heart  was  so  inflamed,  that  she  seemed 
to  be  dissolved,  and  about  to  return  to  her  first  noth- 
ing. Her  private  familiar  entertainments  and  com- 
munion with  God  so  fired  her  breast  that  she  would 
exclaim :  "  0  Love,  I  can  no  longer  support  your 
flames,  —  my  heart  is  not  able  to  contain  you ! " 
(Enthusiasm  of  the  Methodists  and  Papists  Compared, 
Vol.  I.  Part  II.  p.  7.)  I  have  not  the  least  suspi- 
cion there  was  the  least  hypocrisy  in  the  ardors  of  this 
good  sister.  Her  constitution,  indeed,  might  have  in- 
creased her  devotions,  but  she  uses  the  inimitable  lan- 
guage of  feeling  and  truth.  I  have  not  quoted  from  St. 
Teresa  of  Spain,  Francis  de  Sales,  Madame  de  Guy- 
on,  Fe*nelon,  Antonette  Bourignon,  and  many  others ; 
they  all  feel  the  same  ardor  and  fall  into  the  same 
strain.  They  talk  of  the  prayer  of  silence,  self-annihi- 
lation, self-crucifixion,  absorption,  the  passive  prayer, 
the  wordless  petition,  the  mystical  union  with  God,  — 


86  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

and  we  can  hardly  conceive  of  this  state  of  emotion 
without  its  clothing  itself  in  the  language  of  Canti- 
cles ;  the  affinity  is  like  matter  to  form,  as  the  old 
philosophers  say, — it  is  eternal  and  complete.  The  old 
English  poets  have  fallen  into  a  similar  strain.  Thus 
Spenser,  in  his  Hymn  on  Heavenly  Beauty :  — 

"  With  all  my  heart,  with  all  my  soul  and  mind, 
Thou  must  Him  love  and  His  behests  embrace  ; 
All  other  loves  with  which  the  world  doth  blind 
Weak  fancies,  and  stir  up  affections  base, 
Thou  must  renounce  and  utterly  displace, 
And  give  thyself  unto  Him,  full  and  free, 
That  full  and  freely  gave  himself  for  thee. 

Then  shall  thy  ravisht  soul  inspired  be 

With  heavenly  thoughts,  far  above  human  skill, 

And  thy  bright,  radiant  eyes  shall  plainly  see 

Th'  idea  of  His  pure  glory  present  still 

Before  thy  face,  that  all  thy  spirits  shall  fill 

With  sweet  enragement  of  celestial  love, 

Kindled  through  sight  of  those  fair  things  above." 

So  in  the  poems  of  Drummond,  who  died  1649 :  — 

"  Love  which  is  here  a  care, 
That  wit  and  will  doth  mar, 
Uncertain  truce  and  a  most  certain  war, 
A  shrill,  tempestuous  wind, 
Which  doth  disturb  the  mind, 
And  like  wild  waves  all  our  designs  commove. 
Among  those  powers  above 
Which  see  their  Maker's  face, 
It  a  contentment  is,  a  quiet  peace, 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  87 

A  pleasant  void  of  grief,  a  constant  rest, 
Eternal  joy,  which  nothing  can  molest." 

And  again,  I  suppose  the  following  to  be  written  in 
the  same  spirit,  though  the  design  is  not  so  clearly 
expressed :  — 

"  Thrice  happy  he,  who,  by  some  shady  grove, 
Far  from  the  clamorous  world,  doth  live  his  own ; 
Though  solitary,  who  is  not  alone, 
But  doth  converse  with  that  ETERNAL  LOVE  : 
O,  how  more  sweet  is  bird's  harmonious  moan, 
Or  the  hoarse  sobbings  of  the  widowed  dove, 
Than  those  smooth  whisperings  near  a  prince's  throne 
Which  good  make  doubtful,  do  the  evil  approve  : 
O  how  more  sweet  is  Zephyr's  wholesome  breath, 
And  sighs  embalmed  which  new-born  flowers  unfold, 
Than  that  applause  vain  honor  doth  bequeath  ! 
How  sweet  are  streams  to  poisoned  drink  in  gold ! 
The  world  is  full  of  horrors,  troubles,  slights ; 
Woods,  harmless  shades,  have  only  true  delights." 

Flowers  of  Zion. 

So  Crashaw:  — 

"  Dear  soul,  be  strong ; 
Mercy  will  come  ere  long, 
And  bring  its  bosom  full  of  blessings ; 
Flowers  of  never-fading  graces, 
To  make  immortal  dressings 
For  worthy  souls,  whose  wise  embraces 
Store  up  themselves  for  Him,  who  is  alone 

The  spouse  of  virgins,  and  the  virgin's  son. 

But  if  the  noble  Bridegroom,  when  he  come, 
Shall  find  the  loitering  heart  from  home, 
Leaving  its  chaste  abode 
To  gad  abroad 


88  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

Among  the  gay  mates  of  the  god  of  flies ; 
To  take  her  pleasure  and  to  play 
And  keep  the  devil's   holiday ; 
To  dance  i'  the  sunshine  of  some  smiling, 
But  beguiling 

Sphere  of  sweet  and  sugar'd  lies, 

Some  slippery  pair 

Of  false,  perhaps,  as  fair, 
Flattering  but  forswearing  eyes ; 

Doubtless,  some  other  heart 

Will  get  the  start, 

And,  stepping  in  before, 
Will  take  possession  of  the  sacred  store." 

And  again:  — 

"  Rise  up,  my  fair,  my  spotless  one, 
The  winter 's  past,  the  rain  is  gone  : 
The  spring  is  come,  the  flowers  appear, 
No  sweets  but  thine  are  wanting  here." 

"  Come  away,  my  love, 
Come  away,  my  dove, 

Cast  off  delay ; 

The  court  of  Heaven  has  come 
To  wait  upon  thee  home,  — 
Come,  come  away." 

"  The  flowers  appear, 
Or  quickly  would,  wert  thou  once  here." 

Mrs.  Rowe  and  Dr.  Watts  add  their  suffrage.  The 
former,  even  when  she  does  not  adopt  the  imagery, 
has  a  lusciousness  which  borders  upon  it :  — 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  89 

"  Begin  the  high  celestial  strain, 
My  ravished  soul,  and  sing 
A  solemn  hymn  of  grateful  praise 
To  Heaven's  Almighty  King. 

"  Ye  curling  fountains,  as  ye  roll 

Your  silver  waves  along, 
Whisper  to  all  your  verdant  shores 
The  subject  of  my  song.'' 

And  Dr.   Watts:  — 

"  Sweet  Muse,  descend  and  bless  the  shade 

And  bless  the  evening  grove ; 
Business  and  noise  and  day  are  fled, 
And  every  care  but  love. 

I  '11  carve  our  passion  on  the  bark, 

And  every  wounded  tree 
Shall  droop  and  bear  some  mystic  mark 
That  Jesus  died  for  me." 

The  thirteen  hymns  in  the  first  book  of  Watts  are 
well  recollected  by  all,  once  admired,  though  now 
generally  omitted. 

Pope,  in  his  Eloisa  to  Abelard,  in  describing  the 
blameless  vestal's  lot,  who  enjoys  the 

"  Eternal  sunshine  of  the  spotless  mind," 

adds : — 

"  For  her  the  unfading  rose  of  Eden  blooms, 
And  wings  of  seraphs  shed  divine  perfumes ; 
For  her  the  Spouse  prepares  the  bridal  ring, 
For  her  white  virgins  hymeneals  sing. 
To  sounds  of  heavenly  harps  she  dies  away, 
And  melts  in  visions  of  eternal  day." 


90  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

This  is  but  a  versification  of  what  is  supposed  to 
be  illustrated  in  the  trances  and  visions  of  St.  Teresa 
of  Spain,  and  other  mystics.  Pope  is  one  of  those 
authors  whose  appropriations  and  borrowings  increase 
our  admiration  of  his  original  genius.  In  this  epistle 
almost  everything  is  borrowed,  either  from  Eloisa's 
letters  or  Abelard's,  or  the  mystic  writers,  yet  with 
what  selective  power !  with  what  admirable  taste ! 

Now,  the  argument  is  this.  What  is  so  general 
must  be  natural ;  certainly  the  material  passion  is 
universal,  —  "amor  idem  omnibus."  (Georgic  III.  v. 
244.)  Certainly  Divine  love  is  essential  to  religion  ; 
and  certainly  the  one  may  be  pictured  in  the  other. 
If,  then,  all  nations  have  felt  this  power,  and  have 
fallen  into  this  strain  ;  if  ardent  devotion  always  verges 
to  mysticism,  and  if  the  mystics  and  semi-mystics  have 
always  expressed  themselves  in  this  way ;  if  the  fer- 
vent East  began  the  strain,  and  the  sceptic  Greeks 
and  politic  Romans  have  something  of  the  flame ;  if 
it  has  been  repeated  in  every  age,  and  we  cannot 
conceive  how  glowing  piety  can  find  equal  figures  in 
any  other  source,  —  then  we  must  say,  that  the  man 
who  cannot  see  the  propriety  of  this  union  of  mortal 
language  with  immortal  thoughts  has  not  a  compre- 
hensive mind ;  he  has  neither  considered  the  nature  of 
mind,  the  nature  of  language,  nor  the  history  of  relig- 
ion. He  questions  the  possibility  of  that  which  is  almost 
universal.  He  stands  alone,  or  associates  only  with 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  91 

the  frozen.  The  fact  is,  so  far  from  regarding  this 
book  as  an  objection  to  the  purity  of  revelation,  its  ful- 
ness would  have  been  crippled  without  it;  and  as,  when 
I  read  that  "  the  Lord  God  is  a  sun,"  I  can  think  of 
no  other  object  in  creation  so  adequate  to  image  his 
glory,  and  believe  that  later  writers,  if  they  had  never 
heard  of  this  comparison,  must  have  found  it  of  their 
own  invention,  so  I  must  conclude  that  the  Word  of 
God  in  adopting  this  amatory  strain  only  touches  a 
universal  chord,  and  completes  its  own  perfection. 

People  do  not  sufficiently  consider  the  amplitude 
of  the  Bible.  That  divine  book  is  written  for  all 
tastes  in  all  ages,  and  is  addressed  to  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  Its  design  is  simple,  but  its  expedients 
are  endless  ;  and  the  fancy  and  the  reason  are  alike 
made  the  channels  by  which  it  pours  its  information 
into  the  soul.  It  is  like  the  tree  of  life,  in  Rev- 
elation,  which  grew  on  the  banks  of  the  mystic 
river,  which  "  bare  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  and 
yielded  her  fruit  every  month ;  and  the  leaves  of  the 
tree  were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  (Rev. 
xxii.  2.)  Remark  the  word,  —  "  the  nations,"  not  one, 
but  all.  Accordingly,  the  Bible  has  an  astonishing 
omniformity.  It  fills  every  channel  of  thought ;  it 
reaches  every  soul.  We  cannot  expect  the  mathema- 
tician to  have  the  taste  of  a  poet,  or  the  Greek  to 
resemble  the  uncultivated  barbarian.  The  Hindoo  and 
the  Chinaman  are  different  beings.  Even  religion 


92  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

enters  minds  of  different  conformity  and  with  differ- 
ent degrees  of  intenseness.  The  cold  sunbeam  that 
plays  on  the  rocks  of  Hecla  hardly  seems  to  be  the 
same  thing  as  the  burning  ray  that  falls  on  the  sands 
of  El  Arisch.  Where,  then,  is  the  wonder  that  God, 
who  knows  all  hearts,  should  fill  his  Word  with  all  the 
methods  of  reaching  them  ?  "  But  the  word  of  the 
Lord  was  unto  them  precept  upon  precept,  precept 
upon  precept,  line  upon  line,  line  upon  line,  here  a 
little  and  there  a  little,  that  they  might  go  and  fall 
backward,  and  be  broken,  and  snared,  and  be  taken." 
(Isaiah  xxviii.  13.)  The  seeming  imperfections  of  the 
Bible  are  but  varieties  of  excellence.  Truth,  like 
some  skilful  virgin,  increases  her  charms  by  varying 
her  dress.  The  most  successful  moral  writers  have 
been  conscious  of  the  same  difficulties,  and  have 
adopted  the  same  rule.  Let  us  hear  Addison :  "  I 
may  cast  my  readers  under  two  general  divisions,  the 
Mercurial  and  the  Saturnine.  The  first  are  the  gay 
part  of  my  disciples,  who  require  speculations  of  wit 
and  humor ;  the  others  are  those  of  a  more  solemn 
and  sober  turn,  who  find  no  pleasure  but  in  papers 
of  morality  and  sound  sense.  The  former  call  every- 
thing that  is  serious,  stupid ;  the  latter  look  upon 
everything  as  impertinent  that  is  ludicrous.  Were  I 
always  grave,  one  half  my  readers  would  fall  off  from 
me ;  were  I  always  merry,  I  should  lose  the  other. 
I  make  it,  therefore,  my  endeavor  to  find  out  enter- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  93 

tainments  of  both  kinds,  and  by  that  means,  perhaps, 
consult  the  good  of  both  more  than  I  should  do,  did 
I  always  write  to  the  particular  taste  of  either.  As 
they  neither  of  them  know  what  I  proceed  upon,  the 
sprightly  reader,  who  takes  up  my  paper  in  order  to 
be  diverted,  very  often  finds  himself  engaged  unawares 
in  a  serious  and  profitable  course  of  thinking ;  as,  on 
the  contrary,  the  thoughtful  man,  who  perhaps  may 
hope  to  find  something  solid  and  full  of  deep  reflec- 
tion, is  very  often  insensibly  betrayed  into  a  fit  of 
mirth.  In  a  word,  the  reader  sits  down  to  my  enter- 
tainment, without  knowing  the  bill  of  fare,  and  has 
therefore  at  least  the  pleasure  of  hoping  there  may  be  a 
dish  to  his  palate."  (The  Spectator,  Vol.  III.  No.  179.) 
Now,  why  may  we  not  suppose  the  condescension  of 
God  has  adopted  a  similar  expedient  ?  The  best  men 
differ  in  their  tastes.  Think  of  Leighton  and  Baxter ; 
the  first  turning  away  from  logic  to  love,  and  the 
other  always  pausing  in  his  emotions  to  speculate.  I 
am  far  from  thinking  that  a  man  is  not  a  Christian 
because  he  does  not  relish  this  book.  Before  I  pre- 
sent it  to  him  with  the  least  hope  of  profit,  or  even 
patient  attention,  I  ask,  what  is  the  type  of  his  piety, 
what  is  his  imagination,  what  is  his  taste,  what  is  his 
power  of  throwing  himself  into  Oriental  conceptions  ? 
how  far  has  he  traced  the  use  of  language  from  its 
hieroglyphic  state  in  its  long  progress  to  Grecian  per- 
fection ?  As  Coleridge  said  of  Sir  John  Mackintosh, 


94  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

I  should  despair  to  build  a  bridge  over  the  gulf  that 
separates  some  minds  from  these  beautiful  concep- 
tions. But  then  they  are  no  mean  men,  and  some  of 
them  sincere  Christians.  The  Bible,  too,  has  a  part 
and  portion  for  them.  But  other  minds  have  a  dif- 
ferent conformation.  Augustine,  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
Luther,  Fe*nelon,  Francis  de  Sales,  Madame  Guyon, 
Miss  Rowe,  Dr.  Watts,  must  have  one  such  book  as 
this  ;  and,  I  must  add,  I  should  deem  it  a  privilege 
to  belong  to  the  coterie  ;  for,  given,  a  mystic  turn,  a 
glowing  fancy,  an  ardent  piety  in  a  burning  heart,  and, 
more  than  all,  a  little  Oriental  training,  and  such  a 
poem  must  be  eliminated,  as  certainly  as  the  vernal 
sun  calls  forth  the  flowers. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  95 


IV. 

DIVINE     LOVE 
AN    INTELLECTUAL    AND   INFORMING    PASSION. 

THERE  is  a  remarkable  sentiment  in  the  First  Epis- 
tle of  Paul  to  the  Corinthians,  eighth  chapter,  second 
and  third  verses :  "  And  if  any  man  think  he  know- 
eth  anything,  he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to 
know.  But  if  any  man  love  God,  the  same  is  known 
of  him."  The  Apostle's  design  seems  to  be  to  show 
the  illuminating  power  of  a  holy  affection.  Love  in 
the  heart  is  light  in  the  understanding.  If  any  man 
think  he  knoweth  anything,  —  that  is,  by  the  exercise 
of  his  natural  faculties,  his  ratiocination,  —  if  he  sup- 
poses he  knows  anything  in  religion,  —  for  we  must 
thus  qualify  his  general  proposition,  —  if  he  supposes 
this,  he  errs  in  the  whole  subject ;  he  knows  nothing 
as  he  ought  to  know  it ;  for  the  essence  of  religion 
in  this  way  is  never  known.  But  if  any  man  love  God 
experimentally,  if  he  feel  this  new  passion  in  his  own 
heart,  he  is  known  of  God,  or,  rather,  he  is  made  to 
know  by  God,  —  for  I  should  give  the  /^M-meaning 
here  to  the  verb,  —  that  is,  the  very  passion  is  inspir- 


96  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

ing.  Love  is  light.  Love  to  God  in  the  heart  puri- 
fies the  intellect  and  spreads  light  through  the  mind. 

The  Apostle  adopts  the  same  principle  as  to  know- 
ing our  duties  to  our  fellow-men.  He  tells  the  Thes- 
salonians  (First  Epistle,  iv.  9)  :  "  But  as  touching 
brotherly  love,  ye  need  not  that  I  write  unto  you  ; 
for  ye  yourselves  are  taught  of  God  to  love  one  an- 
other." They  had  only  to  look  into  their  own  breasts, 
and  the  powerful  impulse,  once  given,  was  their  best 
instructor.* 

We  may  lay  it  down  as  a  principle,  that  the  ele- 
mentary ideas  respecting  our  whole  duty  to  God  and 
man  originate  in  the  affections.  Strike  off  the  affec- 
tions, and  all  our  moral  technology  would  have  no 
meaning.  It  is  here  as  it  is  in  teaching  music ;  a 
man  may  learn  the  gamut  and  all  the  laws  of  con- 
cord and  time,  the  mathematical  laws  of  vibration  in 
producing  sound,  and  yet,  if  his  ear  be  defective,  and 
cannot  distinguish  the  sweetness  and  unity  of  sounds, 
the  lesson  comes  to  an  end. 

Reasoning  presupposes  intuition,  which  gives  us  some- 
thing to  reason  about.  Metaphysicians  have  been  per- 

*  One  of  the  most  surprising  instances  of  the  informing  nature  of  this 
divine  passion  is  found  in  1  Corinth,  xiii.  5.  It  is  said  of  17  ayairrj  that 
OVK  do-xrjfwve'i,  it  does  not  behave  itself  unseemly.  Now  what  a  quick 
perception,  what  a  compi-ehensive  view  of  all  the  nicer  threads  of  obliga- 
tion and  life,  must  that  passion  have  which  teaches  us  to  move  correctly 
on  these  delicate  and  indefinite  lines  !  It  gives  us  an  instinct  neighboring 
on  inspiration. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  97 

plexed  to  know  how  we  can  prove  the  existence  of 
the  material  world;  or,  the  outer  world  being  given, 
how  we  know  that  our  ideas  are  a  representation  of 
it.  Some  say  we  assume  it,  some,  that  we  know  it 
from  common  sense ;  and  some,  that  we  see  all  things 
in  God.  All  confess  that  our  ideas,  considered  as 
representations,  are  very  uncertain  and  inadequate. 
But  there  is  one  idea,  or  impression,  or  concept, 
or  whatever  you  call  it,  having  an  outward  cause, 
which  must  be  adequate,  and  about  which  there  can 
be  no  scepticism ;  and  that  is  PAIN,  in  all  its  forms, 
and,  of  course,  pleasure.  I  have  my  pain  all  to  my- 
self, and  with  it,  in  all  my  sufferings  and  contortions, 
it  brings  one  consolation,  that  I  think  I  have  one 
adequate  idea ;  for  I  cannot  conceive  where  my  pain 
can  exist  but  in  my  sensation,  and  I  shall  be  thank- 
ful to  the  man  that  can  give  me  happiness  by  giving 
me  ease.  Now,  with  the  idea  of  pain  springs  up  a 
whole  host  of  concomitant  ideas  ;  happiness,  its  oppo- 
site ;  and  the  moral  ideas,  the  infliction  of  pain  and 
the  imparting  of  pleasure,  which  is  justice,  or  malig- 
nity ;  and  the  giving  of  happiness,  which  is  benevo- 
lence. I  think  the  old  Epicureans  were  right  when 
they  said  virtue  was  an  empty  and  splendid  name, 
when  it  gave  no  exponent,  —  no  productive  quantity. 
Without  pleasure  and  pain,  benevolence,  in  God  or 
man,  would  have  nothing  to  work  on,  —  nothing  to 
express  itself  by.  For  let  me  imagine  that  yonder 
5  G 


98  -         THE    MANUDUCTION. 

busy  ants,  as  they  collect  the  grain  (though  the  sup- 
position is  confuted  by  their  activity),  were  incapable 
of  feeling,  how  can  I  do  them  good  or  evil  ?  how 
can  I  even  wish  well  to  their  experience  ?  Surround 
the  throne  of  God  with  the  most  exalted  intellects, 
incapable  of  feeling,  —  with  angels,  archangels,  and 
ransomed  saints,  incapable  of  feeling,  —  and  I  see  not 
how  the  almighty  wisdom  of  Jehovah  could  exercise 
any  benevolence  towards  them.  He  has  nothing  to 
give.  Nay,  suppose  God  himself  to  be  pure  intellect, 
how  can  he  be  clothed  with  the  Divine  perfections  ? 
Benevolence  must  have  something  to  give  ;  indigence 
and  dependence  must  have  something  to  receive ;  and 
it  is  no  paradox  to  say  that  hell  itself,  an  eternal  hell, 
is  necessary  to  the  highest  expression  of  that  infinite 
Love,  which  enables  some  who  have  deserved  it  from 
justice  to  escape  it  by  grace. 

Thus  are  sensualism  and  spirituality  linked  togeth- 
er; thus  does  one  become  an  exponent  of  the  other, 
as  the  water-lily  with  its  sweetness  springs  from  the 
mud. 

We  must  distinguish,  I  know,  in  order  to  form  a 
conception  of  the  mind,  intellect  from  feeling ;  but  we 
must  not  separate  them.  To  view  them  apart  assists 
our  conception,  but  to  tear  them  asunder  destroys 
them  both.  The  following  remarks  of  a  writer  of  our 
country,  now  little  known,  seem  to  me  to  be  profound  : 
"  The  faculties  of  the  mind  have  been  commonly  dis- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  99 

tinguished,  by  modern  divines  and  philosophers,  into 
the  understanding,  the  will,  and  the  affections.  Others 
comprehend  the  affections  in  the  will.  The  object  of 
the  understanding  is  truth ;  the  object  of  the  will  and 
affections  is  good.  The  mind  by  the  understanding 
perceives,  judges,  reasons,  knows,  assents  ;  but  by  the 
affections  loves,  rejoices,  hates,  grieves,  &c. ;  by  the  will 
chooses,  refuses,  exerts,  forbears,  and  the  like.  These 
objects  and  acts  of  the  mind  at  first  sight  may  seem 
to  be  of  a  different  nature ;  but  this  may  be  owing 
to  our  viewing  the  same  object,  as  it  were,  in  a  dif- 
ferent attitude  and  light.  Thus,  good,  which  is  the 
object  of  the  affections,  is  knowable  ;  so  is  an  object 
of  the  understanding.  It  may  be  both  known  and 
loved.  Yea,  to  know  and  to  love  good  seems  to  be 
the  same  thing.  What  is  love  but  the  perception  of 
goodness  and  loveliness  ?  Perception  is  referred  to 
the  understanding,  and  affection  to  the  will.  But  is 
there  any  more  real  difference  between  perceiving 
beauty  and  loving  it,  than  there  is  between  attraction 
and  gravitation  ?  It  will  be  said  there  is  a  twofold 
perception  of  objects,  viz.  sub  rations  veri,  and  sub 
rations  boni ;  the  former  is  referred  to  the  intellect, 
the  latter  to  the  heart,  or  will.  But  it  may  well  be 
inquired  whether  there  be  any  object  of  perception  in 
nature,  or  any  object  in  the  mind,  which  does  not 
involve  both  those  respects ;  and  whether  perception 
and  taste  do  not  universally,  essentially,  and  necessa- 


100  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

rily  imply  each  other,  their  difference  being  rather 
nominal  than  real ;  whether  there  be  any  taste  with- 
out perception,  or  any  perception  without  taste ;  and, 
consequently,  whether  the  understanding  and  heart  do 
not  really  contain  each  other,  and  their  acts  coincide  ? 
I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  promiscuous  use 
of  the  words  mind,  understanding,  heart,  knowledge, 
love,  observable  in  the  inspired  books,  was  very  agree- 
able to  this  supposition,  and  gave  some  countenance 
to  it.  And  yet  the  common  distinction  of  the  facul- 
ties of  the  mind  may  conveniently  enough  be  retained 
for  method's  sake,  provided  we  take  care  not  to  be 
led  into  mistake  by  it."  (Dr.  Hemmenway's  Vindica- 
tion in  Answer  to  Dr.  Hopkins,  1772.) 

The  intellect  and  the  emotions,  then,  are  one  in  ori- 
gin, one  in  the  objective.  Love  springs  from  the  per- 
ception of  the  lovely,  and  yet  the  perception  is  not 
from  reason  only,  —  i.e.  the  discursive  faculty.  It  is 
perceived  by  the  very  affection  it  kindles ;  that  is,  the 
relish  for  beauty,  the  love  of  beauty,  are  so  much  one, 
that  we  cannot  conceive  them  as  existing  apart.  We 
must  have  love  to  perceive  what  is  lovely,  and  the 
perception  of  what  is  lovely  is  necessary  to  the  exist- 
ence of  love.  None  can  tell  which  is  first,  which  is 
last,  —  which  is  cause,  which  is  effect.  Eternal  won- 
der! Enigma  which  human  penetration  can  never 
solve  !  "I  went  down  into  the  garden  of  nuts,  to 
see  the  fruits  of  the  valley,  and  to  see  whether  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  101 

vine  flourished  and  the  pomegranates  budded.  Or 
ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  made  me  like  the  chariots 
of  Amminadib." 

That  Divine  love  is  an  intellectual  and  enlighten- 
ing passion  is  seen  from  many  considerations. 

I.  We  may  begin  this  inquiry  by  remarking  how 
much  a  worldly  affection  can  blind  the  intellect  to 
its  permanent  and  religious  duty.  We  love  the  world ; 
we  are  governed  by  our  sensual  passions ;  we  pursue 
the  prizes  of  time  ;  we  are  solicited  by  its  riches  and 
dazzled  by  its  honors ;  —  and  when  we  come  to  awake 
from  our  dream,  and  soberly  estimate  the  value  of  the 
things  we  have  pursued,  all  men  confess  the  vanity 
of  life ;  all  men  confess  the  little  value  of  the  things 
which  have  excited  such  intense  interest.  The  spark 
has  kindled  such  a  conflagration  only  by  falling  on 
a  combustible  heart.  Every  one  knows  that  our  du- 
ration in  this  life  is  but  a  span,  and  we  plant  our 
fairest  flowers  only  to  wither  on  our  graves,  Take 
the  candidate  for  political  honor,  —  how  intense  his 
interest,  how  great  his  activity,  how  precarious  his 
success,  and  how  frequent  his  disappointment !  How 
common  it  is  for  us  to  over-estimate  the  duration  of 
our  mortal  life,  and  all  the  enjoyment  it  includes 
and  brings!  "What  is  your  life?"  says  the  Apostle. 
"It  is  a  vapor  which  appears  for  a  little  time,  and 
then  vanishes  away."  That  a  being  of  foresight,  with 
the  least  consciousness  of  the  moral  impressions,  should 


102  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

purchase  affluence  by  vice,  is  one  of  the  most  aston- 
ishing events  that  can  happen.  Nothing  is  more 
strange,  or  more  common.  It  can  only  be  accounted 
for  by  the  intensity  of  a  blinding  passion.  Suppose 
the  truth  of  religion,  and  our  eternal  interest  therein, 
and  a  man  never  cheats  another  without  in  a  thou- 
sand-fold degree  cheating  himself.  If  he  takes  from 
his  neighbor's  purse,  he  takes  a  richer  treasure  from 
his  own  breast.  It  is  said  by  divines,  and  it  is  im- 
plied in  Scripture,  that  if  it  were  not  for  this  blind- 
ing power  coming  from  the  love  of  the  world,  the 
truth  and  beauty  of  the  Gospel  would  beam  on  us  at 
once,  even  as  the  setting  sun  darts  his  light  through 
the  purified  atmosphere,  and  the  cloud  is  lifted  from 
its  descending  brightness. 

This  intense  love  for  an  inadequate  object  is  no 
disputed  truth ;  all  own  its  extravagance,  while  they 
feel  its  power.  All  government,  as  Burke  tells  us, 
is  founded  on  the  maxim,  that  no  man  shall  be  judge 
in  his  own  cause.  No  matter  what  his  native  sagacity 
may  be,  the  moment  self-interest  intervenes  he  be- 
comes blind  to  the  plainest  claims  of  impartial  jus- 
tice, and  the  higher  the  prize,  the  greater  the  self- 
ishness. Hence  it  is  often  observed  that  a  throne  is 
a  prize  too  great  for  any  human  wisdom.  The  con- 
dition of  the  Roman  emperors  was  a  strong  instance. 
It  seems  astonishing  that  any  mortal  should  be  in- 
duced to  accept  such  a  dangerous  honor.  They  were 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  103 

every  moment  liable  to  assassination  and  rebellion  from 
their  capricious  soldiers.  Whatever  grandeur  might 
adorn  their  palaces,  whatever  luxury  might  attend 
their  feasts, —  think  of  their  pillows,  attend  them  to 
their  sleeping  chambers,  and  what  a  dreadful  condi- 
tion !  Every  noise  must  have  alarmed  them.  No 
wonder  many  of  them  were  sots.  It  was  drunkenness 
only  that  could  put  them  to  sleep.  How  ambition, 
that  fond  passion,  must  have  painted  its  own  prizes  in 
order  to  justify  its  own  choice  !  And  yet  there  was  no 
want  of  candidates.  Some  possessed,  and  thousands 
sought,  the  transient  honor,  and  the  almost  certain 
ruin.  How  irrational !  What  a  mystery !  In  read- 
ing of  the  French  Revolution,  the  wonder  impressed 
on  the  reader's  mind  is,  that  Louis  XVI.,  when  the 
snares  were  multiplying  around  him,  did  not  resign; 
but  the  thought  seems  never  to  have  entered  his  head. 
Indeed,  the  whole  of  human  life  seems  to  be  an  exhi- 
bition of  this  fallacy,  —  enormous  love  for  what  our 
experience  shows  us  to  be  a  worthless  object.  Even 
in  good  men  a  lingering  carnality  obscures  their  moral 
perception.  When  the  scales  have  left  their  eyes,  it 
takes  time  to  accustom  them  to  improve  the  sight. 
So  we  must  explain  some  of  the  striking  instances 
we  have  in  the  Bible.  Our  Lord  told  his  disciples 
(Mark  ix.  31)  :  "  The  Son  of  man  is  delivered  into 
the  hands  of  men,  and  they  shall  kill  him ;  and  after 
that  he  is  killed,  he  shall  rise  the  third  day."  This 


104  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

declaration  seems  to  us  very  explicit,  and  yet  we  are 
told  of  his  own  disciples,  they  understood  not  that  say- 
ing, and  were  afraid  to  ask  him.  See  also  Luke  ii. 
50,  and  various  other  instances.  Such  is  the  blinding 
power  of  a  passion  which  creates  its  own  valuations. 

We  might  instance  it  in  the  length  we  impute  to 
human  life,  and  the  distance  at  which  we  place  eternal 
things.  This  fallacy  prevents  religion  from  making  its 
appropriate  impression.  It  is  the  standing  delusion, 
—  the  great  obstacle  to  the  reception  of  the  Gospel. 
Nothing  can  be  more  obvious  than  that  life  is  short, 
and  that  all  its  rewards  partake  of  its  own  brevity, 
and  it  is  very  precarious  while  it  lasts.  And  yet  this 
obvious  delusion  is  everywhere  operating.  Take  any 
ruling  passion  and  trace  its  operation  on  the  strongest 
intellect.  It  makes  the  miser  poor  amidst  his  riches ; 
it  exposed  Caesar  to  the  daggers  of  his  friends ;  it 
tears  an  impenitent  world  from  the  cross  of  Christ, 
and  plunges  them  into  endless  ruin. 

But  there  is  one  remarkable  instance  in  the  Bible 
which  shows  the  blinding  influence  of  an  evil  affection 
on  the  highest  capacity.  It  has  often  been  asked, 
in  the  temptation  of  Christ,  —  indeed,  in  his  general 
temptations,  —  how  the  Devil  could  expect  to  succeed 
in  opposing  either  the  power  or  the  plans  of  an  all- 
wise  and  all-powerful  God.  The  character  of  Satan, 
it  is  said,  is  impossible  and  inconsistent.  But  perhaps 
the  objector  does  not  consider  the  blinding  influence 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  105 

of  an  evil  principle  when  it  is  infinitely  strong  and 
purely  evil.  It  may  be  a  part  of  his  crime  and  pun- 
ishment to  be  hurried  on  to  attempt  an  absurdity, 
though  his  clouded  reason  may  assure  him  he  must 
always  fail.  This,  perhaps,  is  the  great  lesson  we  are 
to  learn  from  the  character  and  conduct  of  the  prince 
of  hell.  He  is  a  being  whose  reason  is  useless  to  him, 
because  it  is  a  slave  to  the  impetuous  depravity  of 
his  heart. 

Now,  the  power  of  Divine  Love  is,  in  the  first  place, 
that  it  removes  this  universal  delusion.  The  negative 
part  of  its  work  is  vastly  important.  For  until  men 
come  to  a  practical  conviction  of  the  perversity  of 
their  choice,  in  prizing  things  merely  because  they 
prize  them,  they  find  a  very  cold  and  distant  mean- 
ing in  the  claims  of  the  Gospel ;  and  if  a  false  pas- 
sion for  an  inadequate  object  has  a  great  influence  in 
blinding  the  mind  to  all  that  is  true  and  beautiful 
in  duty  and  religion,  we  may  well  conclude  that  a 
true  passion,  fixed  on  Him  who  is  eternal,  immortal, 
and  invisible,  must  raise  the  mind  from  its  grovel- 
lings,  and  fill  it  with  wisdom  and  peace.  But, 

II.  There  are  several  considerations  which  show  pos- 
itively this  enlightening  influence  of  a  pure  affection. 

First,  its  origin  ;  the   soul. 

Second,  from  its  objective. 

Third,  from  its  elements  or  counters :  that  is,  the 
very  objects  it  gives  to  reason  to  employ  itself  about, 


106  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

just  as  quantity  is  the   element  of  mathematical  cal- 
culation. 

First,  then,  love  is  the  act  or  impulse  of  the  soul. 
It  originates  in  the  soul,  the  centre  where  the  dis- 
cursive and  emotional  powers  combine.  It  should  be 
remembered  that  love,  through  all  the  grades  of  be- 
ing, from  the  insect  to  the  archangel,  rises  from  an 
unreflecting  instinct  to  an  intellectual  passion.  It 
is  exalted  by  the  source  from  which  it  proceeds ;  it 
is  instinct  in  the  birds  and  beasts,  and  yet  almost 
inspires  them  with  a  prophetic  foresight.  It  makes 
the  bird  build  her  nest,  and  prepare,  as  if  she  had 
prudence,  for  her  future  offspring.  It  drives  the  brute 
to  sensual  gratification,  and  rises  to  the  most  refined 
and  elegant  perfection  in  the  human  race.  Suppose  a 
poet  and  a  clown  to  be  walking  together  in  the  field. 
They  see  a  rose ;  it  is  the  same  object,  yet  how  dif- 
ferent the  impression,  and  how  much  more  exalted 
the  feelings  of  the  poet  than  the  clown !  They  look 
up  to  a  star,  and  the  poet  understands  its  nature  and 
object  better  than  the  clown.  He  looks  with  an  ele- 
vating admiration.  Thus  the  relish  lies  imbedded  in 
all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  and  love  never  ceases  to 
actuate  the  thoughts  and  mental  operations  with  which 
it  was  at  first  combined. 

We  are  told  by  Aristotle,  (as  quoted  in  Cudworth's 
Intellectual  System,  Chap.  IY.  p.  203,)  that  there  is 
something  in  man  better  than  reason,  "\dyov  TI  Kpei- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  10  T 

row,  and  which  is  the  principle  of  reason,  \6jov  dp^rj. 
For,  says  he,  the  principle  of  reason  is  not  reason,  but 
something  better.  All  deductions  suppose  something 
already  known ;  —  something  more  sure,  more  clearly 
seen  than  anything  to  which  it  leads  us.  A  ray  of 
light  is  not  so  clear  as  the  fountain  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeds. A  soul  cannot  exist  without  the  elements  of 
its  own  existence ;  and  one  of  these  is  the  all-compre- 
hensive passion  of  love. 

Secondly,  but  if  we  consider  the  objective  of  this  pas- 
sion, we  shall  find  that  it  is  mental  and  highly  inform- 
ing. In  its  lowest  exercise  it  must  see  something,  —  a 
child,  a  landscape,  a  face,  a  flower  ;  and  the  vaster  and 
the  more  complex  the  object,  the  more  elevated  and  re- 
fined must  be  the  passion.  Some  writers,  indeed  most, 
and  certainly  St.  Paul,  make  all  virtue  to  consist  in  be- 
nevolence. "  Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law."  But 
consider  what  an  objective  they  present  to  produce  and 
guide  this  noble  feeling.  President  Edwards  tells  us, 
true  virtue  most  essentially  consists  "  in  benevolence 
to  Being  in  general.  Or  perhaps,  to  speak  more  accu- 
rately, it  is  that  consent,  propensity,  and  union  of  heart 
to  Being  in  general,  that  is  immediately  exercised  in  a 
general  good-will."  Consider  what  a  vast  object  the 
mind  is  supposed  to  comprehend ;  for  it  must  in  some 
degree  comprehend  it  before  it  can  admire,  according  to 
the  old  maxim,  Ignoti  nulla  cupido.  Hutcheson  says  : 
"  What  reason  can  a  benevolent  being  give,  as  exciting 


108  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

him  to  hazard  his  life  in  a  just  war  ?  This,  perhaps,  — 
such  conduct  tends  to  the  happiness  of  his  country. 
Ask  him  why  he  serves  his  country,  he  will  say,  his 
country  is  a  very  valuable  part  of  mankind.  Why 
does  he  study  the  happiness  of  mankind  ?  If  his  affec- 
tions be  really  disinterested,  he  can  give  no  exciting 
reason  for  it :  the  happiness  of  mankind  in  general, 
or  of  any  valuable  part  of  it,  is  an  ultimate  end  to  that 
series  of  desires."  (Illustrations  of  the  Moral  Sense, 
Francis  Hutcheson.)  What  a  vast  object  is  here  pre- 
sented to  the  intellect  to  awaken  its  noblest  emotions ! 
The  happiness  of  mankind ! !  Dr.  Paley,  at  first  view, 
seems  to  differ  very  much  from  President  Edwards. 
But  their  systems  are  essentially  the  same.  Dr.  Paley 
makes  utility  the  object  of  virtue ;  Edwards,  benevo- 
lence ;  and  they  are  opposite  ends  of  the  same  pole. 
One  is  subjective,  the  other  objective.  Benevolence 
seeks  lasting  utility,  and  lasting  utility  flows  from  be- 
nevolence ;  and  it  is  curious  to  see  how  the  material 
mind  of  Paley  fastened  on  the  end  he  saw  best,  and 
the  spiritual  mind  of  Edwards  entered  the  depths  of 
the  soul  to  find  the  intention.  But  after  all,  the  sys- 
tems are  the  same ;  the  one  is  unintelligible  without 
supposing  the  other.  But  what  a  vast  objective  do 
they  present  to  the  intellect,  in  order,  through  its 
idealizing,  to  move  the  heart.  Or,  if  you  make  God 
the  object,  you  still  present  a  vast,  growing,  infinite 
idea.  When  the  humblest  inquirer  is  exhorted  to 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  109 

love  Christ,  how  much  is  supposed  to  be  understood ! 
Christ  is  our  prophet,  priest,  and  king;  he  died  for 
our  sins ;  how  came  we  sinners  ?  the  fall  of  man ;  the 
law  of  God ;  our  guilt  and  condemnation ;  our  re- 
demption and  the  need  of  it,  —  the  whole  moral  his- 
tory of  the  world  combines  and  mingles  in  the  object  of 
this  glowing  passion  ;  and  the  system  must  be  under- 
stood, in  some  degree  at  least,  before  the  passion  can 
be  felt.  We  must  see  the  beauty  before  we  can  feel 
the  love.  Non  est  amor,  ubi  nihil  amatur*  And  what 
is  the  beauty  ? 

It  has  been  objected  to  Edwards  and  Hutcheson, 
that  the  love  they  demand  is  .too  metaphysical,  —  that 
they  present  only  abstractions,  the  hardest  thing  for 
the  mind  to  feel  a  passion  for.  Sir  James  Mackintosh 
remarks,  that  to  call  us  to  love  Being  in  general  is 
to  present  to  the  mind  one  of  the  most  incompre- 
hensible objects  imaginable,  —  the  least  likely  to  touch 
our  emotions.  But  they  have  anticipated  this  objec- 
tion and  provided  for  it.  Edwards  says :  "  When  I 
say  that  virtue  consists  in  love  to  Being  in  general, 
I  shall  not  be  likely  to  be  understood  that  no  one 
act  of  the  mind  or  exercise  of  love  is  of  the  nature 
of  virtue,  but  what  has  Being  in  general,  or  the  great 
system  of  universal  existence,  for  its  direct  and  imme- 
diate object ;  so  that  no  exercise  of  love  or  kind  affec- 

*  Augustine,  De  Trinitate,  Lib.  IX.  2.  From  Hagenbach's  History  of 
Doctrines,  Vol.  I.  p.  286. 


110  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

tion  to  any  one  particular  being,  that  is  but  a  small 
part  of  that  whole,  has  anything  of  the  nature  of  true 
virtue.  But  that  the  nature  of  true  virtue  consists 
in  a  disposition  to  benevolence  towards  Being  in  gen- 
eral ;  though  from  such  a  disposition  may  arise  exer- 
cises of  love  to  particular  beings,  as  objects  are  pre- 
sented and  occasions  arise."  (Nature  of  True  Virtue, 
Chap.  I.)  And  Hutcheson  says :  "  We  may  tran- 
siently observe  a  mistake  which  some  fall  into.  They 
suppose,  because  they  have  formed  some  conception 
of  an  infinite  good,  the  greatest  possible  aggregate 
or  sum  of  happiness,  under  which  all  particular 
pleasures  may  be  included,  that  there  is  also  some 
one  great  ultimate  end,  with  a  view  to  which  every 
particular  object  is  desired ;  whereas,  in  truth,  each 
particular  pleasure  is  desired  without  further  view  as  an 
ultimate  end  in  the  selfish  desires.  It  is  true  the  pros- 
pect of  a  greater  inconsistent  pleasure  may  surmount  or 
stop  this  desire  ;  so  may  the  fear  of  a  prepollent  evil. 
But  this  does  not  prove  that  all  men  have  formed  ideas 
of  infinite  good,  or  greatest  possible  aggregate  ;  or 
that  they  have  any  instinct  or  desire  actually  operating 
without  an  idea  of  its  object.  Just  so  in  the  benevo- 
lent affections,  the  happiness  of  any  one  person  is  an 
ultimate  end,  desired  with  no  further  view;  and  yet 
the  observing  its  inconsistency  with  the  happiness  of 
another  more  beloved,  or  with  the  happiness  of  many, 
though  each  one  of  them  were  but  equally  beloved, 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  Ill 

may  overcome  the  former  desire.  Yet  this  will  not 
prove  that  in  each  kind  action  men  form  the  abstract 
conception  of  all  mankind,  or  the  system  of  rationals. 
Such  conceptions  are  indeed  useful,  that  so  we  may 
gratify  either  our  self-love  or  kind  affections  in  the  full- 
est manner,  as  far  as  our  power  extends ;  and  may 
not  content  ourselves  with  smaller  degrees  either  of 
private  or  public  good  while  greater  are  in  our  power : 
but  when  we  have  formed  these  conceptions,  we  do 
not  serve  the  individual  only  from  the  love  to  the 
species,  no  more  than  we  desire  grapes  with  an  inten- 
tion of  the  greatest  aggregate  of  happiness,  or  from 
the  apprehension  that  they  make  a  part  of  the  general 
sum  of  our  happiness.  These  conceptions  only  serve  to 
suggest  greater  ends  than  would  occur  to  us  without 
reflection ;  and  by  the  prepollency  of  one  desire  toward 
the  greater  good,  to  either  private  or  public,  to  stop  the 
desire  toward  the  smaller  good,  when  it  appears  incon- 
sistent with  the  greater."  (Illustrations  of  the  Moral 
Sense,  Sect.  I.  pp.  222,  223.)  No  doubt  the  mitiga- 
tions of  these  profound  thinkers  were  intended  to  meet 
an  objection  thus  expressed  by  Lord  Shaftesbury  (The 
Moralist,  p.  243)  :  "  As  for  a  plain  natural  love  of 
one  single  person  in  either  sex,  I  could  compass  it,  I 
thought,  well  enough ;  but  this  complex  universal  sort 
was  beyond  my  reach.  I  could  love  the  individual, 
but  not  the  species.  This  was  too  mysterious  ;  too 
metaphysical  an  object  for  me.  In  short,  I  could  love 


112  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

nothing  of  which  I  had   not  some  sensible,  material 
image." 

No  doubt  others  have  felt  the  difficulty.  "When  we 
are  told  that  virtue  is  love  to  sentient  being  in  gen- 
eral, we  can  hardly  refuse  our  assent  to  the  proposi- 
tion, and  yet  we  find  a  difficulty  in  forming  so  vast 
a  conception  to  awaken  our  hearts.  The  Bible  shows 
the  amazing  wisdom  of  God  in  overcoming  this  obsta- 
cle,—  in  giving  us  a  mediiim  which  preserves  the  force, 
without  distracting  us  with  the  vastness  of  the  object. 
This  is  done  in  two  ways.  First,  the  law  of  God  says, 
"  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  Thy  neigh- 
bor !  consider  the  term.  Not  thy  friend,  thy  son,  thy 
relative,  or  thy  countryman,  but  THY  NEIGHBOR,  —  a 
specimen  of  humanity  whom  the  providence  of  God 
has  placed  in  thy  vicinage,  and  therefore  put  within  the 
reach  of  thy  loving-kindness  or  malignity.*  Thy  neigh- 
bor !  who  may  be  a  good  or  a  bad  man,  and  whose 
place  may  be  supplied  by  another  bearing  the  same  rela- 
tion. Thy  love  to  him  also  may  be  practical,  and  there- 
fore he  becomes  a  just  representative  of  the  vast  idea. 
Just  as  one  rose  expresses  the  beauty  of  a  class,  f  The 

*  "  The  presence  of  humanity  in  the  person  of  his  neighbor/'  is  the  fine 
expression  of  Coleridge.  (Friend,  No.  VI.) 

t  Burke  thus  describes  the  sentimentalism  of  French  philosophy,  in  his 
letter  to  a  member  of  the  National  Assembly  (p.  287)  :  lt  Benevolence  to 
the  whole  species,  and  want  of  feeling  for  every  individual  with  whom  the 
professors  come  in  contact,  form  the  character  of  the  new  philosophy." 
The  Bible  reverses  this. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  113 

other  means  of  approximating  the  remote  and  concen- 
trating the  vast  comes  from  the  incarnation  of  the 
Deity  in  Jesus  Christ.  Do  you  love  him  ?  Do  you 
embrace  the  great  idea  for  which  Christ  came  into  the 
world  ?  If  you  love  him,  you  love  God,  you  love  the 
universe,  you  embrace  the  whole.  He  lays  down 
his  life  for  our  redemption,  and  all  that  is  dreadful 
in  universal  misery  or  cheering  in  universal  purity 
and  bliss  combines  in  his  person  to  make  our  regard 
to  him  an  indication  of  the  state  of  our  hearts,  and 
a  certain  test  of  our  character.  "  What  think  ye  of 
Christ  ? " 

In  the  lowest  form  of  love  there  is  always  an  ob- 
jective, and  that  objective  always  addresses  the  heart 
through  the  intellect.  You  admire  a  landscape  ;  you 
say  with  old  Burton  (Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  Vol.  II. 
Part  3,  Sect.  2)  :  "  Whiteness  in  the  lily,  red  in  the 
rose,  purple  in  the  violet,  a  lustre  of  all  things  without 
life,  the  clear  light  of  the  moon,  the  bright  beams  of  the 
sun,  splendor  of  gold,  purple,  sparkling  diamond,  the 
excellent  features  of  the  horse,  the  majesty  of  the  lion, 
the  color  of  birds,  peacocks'  tails,  the  silver  scales  of 
fish,  we  behold  with  singular  delight  and  admiration." 
The  Greek  word  KOO-HOS  suggests  how  mental  the  beauty 
on  which  our  passion  feeds.  Why  was  such  a  term 
applied  to  the  world  ?  It  was  to  express  their  admi- 
ration, and  to  show  how  many  elements  of  thought  and 
perception  combined  in  producing  it.  What  a  view 

H 


114  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

must  the  astronomer  have  to  kindle  his  admiration ; 
and  if  an  undevout  astronomer  is  mad,  what  an  im- 
pression must  he  have  if  he  is  sane,  of  the  works  of 
God  !  Even  the  lover,  before  he  can  justify  his  raving, 
must  impute  every  perfection  to  his  mistress. 

"  O  speak  again,  bright  angel,  for  thou  art 
As  glorious  to  this  night,  being  o'er  my  head, 
As  is  a  winged  messenger  of  heaven 
Unto  the  white-upturned,  wondering  eyes 
Of  mortals,  that  fall  back  to  gaze  on  him, 
When  he  bestrides  the  lazy-pacing  clouds, 
And  sails  upon  the  bosom  of  the  air." 

Thirdly,  but  there  is  still  a  greater  wonder  about 
the  intellectuality  of  our  moral  emotions ;  and  that  is, 
they  may  be  said  to  create  the  conception  about  which 
our  reason  is  employed  in  moral  subjects ;  what  I 
mean  to  say  is,  that  reason  would  have  nothing  to  do 
about  duty  or  sin,  religion  or  virtue,  if  we  could  strike 
out  of  our  minds  all  that  the  heart  gives  to  the  mind, 
or  all  that  the  mind  reflects  back  to  the  heart ;  the 
heart  must  teach  the  mind  what  virtue  is,  and  the 
mind  must  teach  the  heart  the  great  objects  which 
virtue  seeks.*  Let  us  suppose  a  being  born  capable 

*  I  was  never  more  struck  with  the  truth  of  this  remark,  than  in  a  con- 
versation once  with  my  neighbor,  Bartimeus.  Bartimeus  is  a  freethinker, 
and  some  of  his  notions  are  so  very  free  as  to  astonish  everybody  bnt  him- 
self. He  has  undoubtedly  cultivated  a  love  of  paradox,  and  loves  to  say 
startling  things.  I  have  no  doubt  he  has  a  peculiar  mind,  but  whether  it  is 
so  very  peculiar  as  he  often  represents  it  is  a  question.  He  is  a  very  ex- 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  115 

of  one  sensation, — -intense   pain.     He  is  born  as  Lu- 
cretius tells  us  the  infant  is  born :  — 

"  Turn  porro  puer,  ut  saevis  projectus  ab  undis 
Navita,  nudus  humi  jacet,  infans,  indigus 
Vital  auxilio."  Lib.  V.  p.  196. 

"  Naked  he  lies  and  ready  to  expire, 
Helpless  of  all  that  human  wants  require ; 
Straight  with  foreboding  cries  he  fills  the  room, 
Too  true  presages  of  his  future  doom." 

DRTDEN. 

It  is  evident  from  this  single  sensation,  that  the  little 
speculator  cannot  be  a  sceptic  on  the  subject  of  mor- 
als ;  for  pain  is  too  real  a  thing  to  leave  us  to  doubt 

cursive  man,  and  has  no  great  reverence  for  common  sense.  He  loves  to 
startle  and  perplex,  and  never  more  so  than  when  talking  on  religion.  I 
often  converse  with  him  j  sometimes  out  of  curiosity  to  measure  a  peculiar 
mind,  and  sometimes  with  the  faint  hope  of  doing  him  good.  "We  were 
conversing  the  other  day,  as  usual,  about  religion,  and  I  was  endeavoring 
to  enforce  the  claims  of  the  Gospel  from  the  inadequacy  of  all  our  tem- 
poral pursuits  to  our  substantial  happiness.  I  was  waxing  eloquent,  when 
Bartimeus  cut  me  short  by  saying  that  he  understood  nothing  that  I  ut- 
tered ;  he  had  not  the  least  feeling  of  this  inadequacy  ;  no  longings  after 
immortal  happiness ;  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  this  life ;  and  as  to 
death,  sleep  was  what  he  always  prized  more  than  conscious  existence,  or 
any  felicity  it  could  receive ;  and  an  everlasting  slumber,  which  he  calmly 
expected,  was  the  greatest  blessing  he  could  receive.  The  only  answer  I 
could  make  him  was,  Neighbor,  if  it  is  really  so,  and  you  have  given 
a  just  description  of  your  inward  nature,  I  must  confess  you  are  victor 
in  our  discussion.  If  your  feelings  are  universal,  religion  falls  to  the 
ground.  But  what  shall  I  say  ?  I  must  not  call  you  a  liar,  —  it  would 
be  unneighborly  and  impolite  ;  but  yet  allow  me  earnestly  to  hope  that  the 
next  time  we  meet  you  will  say  something  that  I  find  it  possible  for  me 
to  believe :  Adversus  negantem  principia  non  est  disputandum, 


116  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

our  own  existence,  or  an  outward  cause,  and  hence 
an  outward  world.  The  sufferer  must  rejoice  in  the 
removal  of  the  pain ;  and  hence  a  step  towards  the 
idea  of  happiness.  Suppose  the  sensation  of  pain  and 
relief,  and  still  more  positive  happiness,  then  come  the 
ideas  of  intention  in  inflicting  the  one  and  bestowing 
the  other,  and  also  the  ideas  of  indifference  about  each ; 
and  hence  the  ideas  of  will  and  intention,  and  law, 
arid  benevolence,  and  selfishness,  and  conscience,  and 
virtue  and  vice,  —  all  clustering  around  the  first  sim- 
ple sensation.  It  appears  probable  that  our  longings 
after  immortality  and  our  first  ideas  of  immortal  feli- 
city come  in  this  way ;  for  suppose  a  being  thus  to 
suffer  and  thus  to  be  relieved,  as  Plato  has  said,  must 
not  such  a  being  have  an  aversion  to  misery  and  a 
desire  of  happiness  ?  and  on  the  principle  that  it  de- 
sires happiness,  must  it  not  desire  more  happiness, 
and  is  not  the  more  the  longer  ?  Can  we  conceive 
of  a  being  having  one  moment  of  felicity,  not  wishing 
for  two,  ten,  ten  thousand,  and  so  on  to  an  everlast- 
ing duration  ?  So  when  we  see  a  suffering  infant,  we 
see  the  foundation  nature  has  laid  for  the  sublime  con- 
ception of  an  everlasting  heaven.  Even  the  justice  of 
God  himself  becomes  conceivable  from  the  same  expe- 
rience. The  proof  is  complete  ;  it  is  both  analytic 
and  synthetic.  Suppose  the  capacity  of  the  happiness 
and  the  pain,  and  the  whole  world  of  moral  ideas  rises ; 
take  away  that  capacity,  and  I  see  not,  though  all  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  117 

world  should  be  intellectual  (if  intellection  is  supposa- 
ble  without  the  capacity  of  suffering  or  happiness), — 
I  see  not  how  virtue,  merit,  conscience,  law,  justice  in 
God  or  man,  could  exist.  They  would  have -no  mate- 
rial ;  no  relation ;  no  intelligible  exponent ;  no  exist- 
ence. I  doubt  whether  even  a  theory  could  be  formed 
of  them.  Take  the  very  etymology  of  the  word  benev- 
olence,—  good-will;  wishing  well.  But  how  can  you 
wish  well  unless  you  wish  relief  from  suffering,  or  the 
imparting  or  increase  of  relief,  or  happiness  ?  Your 
moral  terms  must  have  an  exponent.  This  is  what 
Dr.  Campbell  means,  I  suppose,  when  he  says :  "No 
hypothesis  hitherto  invented  hath  shown  that,  by  means 
of  the  discursive  faculty,  without  the  aid  of  any  other 
mental  power,  we  could  ever  obtain  a  notion  of  either 
the  beautiful  or  the  good."  (Philos.  of  Rhetoric,  Yol. 
I.  p.  204.)  And  Hutcheson  before  had  said :  "  Per- 
haps what  has  brought  the  epithet  reasonable,  or  flow- 
ing from  reason,  in  opposition  to  what  flows  from 
instinct,  affection,  or  passion,  so  much  into  use,  is  this, 
that  it  is  often  observed  that  the  very  best  of  our  par- 
ticular affections  or  desires,  when  they  are  grown  vio- 
lent and  passionate,  through  the  confused  sensations 
and  propensities  which  attend  them,  make  us  incapa- 
ble of  considering  calmly  the  whole  tendency  of  our 
actions,  and  lead  us  often  into  what  is  absolutely  per- 
nicious, under  some  appearance  of  relative  or  partic- 
ular good.  This,  indeed,  may  give  some  ground  for 


118  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

distinguishing  between  passionate  actions  and  those 
from  calm  desire  or  affection  which  employs  our  rea- 
son freely  ;  but  can  never  set  rational  actions  in  oppo- 
sition to  those  from  instinct,  desire,  or  affection.  And 
it  must  be  owned  that  the  most  perfect  virtue  consists 
in  the  calm  unpassionate  benevolence,  rather  than  par- 
ticular affections."  (The  Moral  Sense,  p.  283.) 

Perhaps  Hutcheson  goes  too  far  when  he  calls  this 
passion  an  instinct.  The  objective  of  an  instinct  is 
not  always  seen  by  the  being  that  feels  it.  I  am  labor- 
ing to  prove  that  in  all  intellectual  beings  it  is  an 
exalted  affection ;  it  comprehends  its  own  end.  Hutch- 
eson always  adds,  "or  affection,"  —  instinct,  or  affec- 
tion. President  Edwards  has  beautifully  corrected  this 
defect  in  Hutcheson  in  his  Essay  on  Virtue,  chapter 
eighth,  which  is  the  profoundest  part  of  that  profound 
Essay. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  conclusion,  that  our  lowest 
sensation  is  the  latent  foundation  of  our  highest  knowl- 
edge. Love  is  the  original,  all-pervading  idea  in  re- 
ligion ;  and  the  nature  of  love  is  known  by  what  it 
seeks.  It  is  the  character  of  God  himself  that  he 
"  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  (Rev. 
xxi.  4.)  That  tells  the  whole  secret.  Without  the 
previous  conception  of  happiness  and  misery,  moral- 
ity and  religion  have  no  existence.  These  open  the 
sphere  for  all  the  virtues,  human  or  divine  ;  and  this 
is  perhaps  what  Bishop  Tayler  meant  when  he  said : 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  119 

"  Every  man  understands  more  of  religion  by  his  affec- 
tions than  by  his  reason.  It  is  not  the  wit  of  the 
man,  but  the  spirit  of  the  man ;  not  so  much  his 
head  as  his  heart  that  learns  the  divine  philosophy." 
(Via  Intelligentiae.) 

The  writers  who,  like  Cud  worth,  More,  etc.,  have 
traced  virtue  and  vice  to  our  reason,  have  always  been 
obliged  (consciously  or  unconsciously)  to  enlarge  the 
meaning.  Reason* with  them  is  not  the  power  of  rea- 
soning ;  it  is  the  comprehensive  source  of  all  our 
moral  knowledge. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  too  nice  a  speculation,  but  I  can- 
not help  thinking  that  the  reason  why  the  fearful  threat- 
ening of  an  eternal  hell  is  so  clearly  revealed  in  the 
Bible,  is  not  always  clearly  understood.  The  thought 
steals  on  me  when  I  read  some  of  Lord  Shaftesbury's 
speculations  concerning  the  mercenary  nature  of  a 
religion  founded  on  rewards  and  punishments.  Is  it 
the  design  of  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  to 
address  our  fears  only  ?  Is  the  opposition  solely  be- 
tween a  crouching  and  a  disinterested  spirit  ?  Do  we 
not  gain  his  Lordship's  avowed  object  better  in  the 
teaching  of  Christ  than  his  own  ?  God  is  love  ;  the 
magnitude  of  his  love  is  seen  in  its  exponents.  He 
delivers  us  from  a  great  ruin.  The  Gospel  is  a  great 
salvation ;  great,  because  it  pardons  and  removes  great 
sin.  But  sin,  likewise,  is  seen  in  its  exponents.  Eter- 
nal punishment  is  the  fact,  the  measure  in  which  we 


120  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

see  the  extent  of  our  sin  and  the  justice  of  God.  0 
when  such  a  load  is  felt  to  be  merited,  and  when  Di- 
vine compassion  takes  it  off,  —  then  we  see  how  great 
His  mercy  to  the  children  of  men !  In  a  word,  the  man 
that  believes  his  sins  to  be  so  great  as  justly  to  plunge 
him  in  all  this  ruin,  and  sees  the  compassion  of  Christ 
in  taking  away  this  penalty  by  his  own  substituted 
suffering,  has  the  conception  of  a  favor  which  no  one 
can  conceive  in  any  other  way.  The  purpose  of  hell, 
then,  is  not  to  work  on  our  fears  solely,  or  mainly, 
but  to  show  the  infinite  magnitude  of  the  love  of  God. 
Again,  Divine  love  must  be  a  disinterested  passion. 
But  what  possible  opportunity  is  there  for  an  heroic 
self-sacrifice  where  there  is  no  danger  ?  Paul  shows  the 
highest  flight  of  this  spirit  when  he  says :  "I  could 
wish  myself  accursed  from  Christ  for  my  brethren, 
my  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh."  Lastly,  if  we 
love  God,  it  must  be  for  his  perfections.  Justice  is 
one  ;  now  the  dreadful  penalty  takes  us  from  our  finite 
conceptions  to  the  great  idea  which  cannot  exist  un- 
less verified  by  facts.  This  is  the  great  fact,  which 
presents  us  at  once  with  a  mirror  and  a  test;  a  mir- 
ror to  see  what  Divine  justice  is,  and  a  test  to  see 
whether  we  bow  to  its  manifestation. 

In  fine,  run  through  the  whole  vocabulary  of  relig- 
ion,—  ruin,  redemption,  a  Saviour,  a  sacrifice,  mercy, 
justice,  repentance,  faith,  a  conscience,  a  law,  sin,  holi- 
ness, -5-  we  shall  find  that  they  all  derive  their  meaning 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  121 

from  the  sentient  nature  of  man,  and  from  the  con- 
cepts which,  if  reason  uses,  the  passions  and  feelings 
alone  can  create,  or  make  intelligible. 

I  need  not,  therefore,  avail  myself  of  the  common 
remark  that  the  passions  are  useful  to  stir  up  the  slug- 
gish intellect,  to  concentrate  the  attention,  and  to  put 
the  powers  of  the  soul  in  motion, — 

"  The  rising  tempest  puts  in  act  the  soul, 
Parts  it  may  ravage,  but  preserves  the  whole,"  — 

since  they  CREATE  their  own  vision,  and  give  coloring 
to  the  picture  which  justifies  their  existence. 

This  subject  may  explain  how  it  is  that  in  religion 
such  sudden  revolutions  happen  in  the  mind.  To-day 
a  man  cannot  see  the  proofs  of  revelation  ;  it  is  all 
a  dream  to  him ;  to-morrow  it  becomes  a  dread  real- 
ity,—  all  his  views  are  changed.  Are  such  sudden 
impressions  enthusiasm?  Are  they  miraculous?  No, 
neither ;  but  the  foundation  impression  is  made  on  his 
heart.  The  elements  of  a  new  reasoning  enter  his 
soul.  He  has  found  out  that  pain  may  come  from 
sin;  and  as  pain  is  a  reality,  so  sin  is  a  reality,  and 
from  these  dread  realities  relief  is  desirable.  The  Gos- 
pel now  has  a  meaning,  because  it  has  an  object.  The 
feelings  are  inspiring, — they  really  give  the  ideas.  It  is 
true  that  all  know  what  pain  is ;  but  when  sin  and  dan- 
ger are  positive  conceptions  because  deeply  felt,  then 
all  the  truths  of  the  Gospel  have  an  end  and  a  reality 
6 


122  THE  MANUDUCTIOX. 

never  seen  before.     They  have  a  foundation   in  expe- 
rience. 

Another  mystery  may  be  explained  by  the  view  which 
we  have  taken.  All  anthropology  leads  us  to  recognize 
the  ignorance  of  man.  Whether  you  trace  knowledge 
to  reason,  or  experience,  the  one  is  feeble,  and  the 
other  is  of  yesterday,  and  knows  comparatively  nothing. 
In  matter,  for  example,  no  analysis  is  final,  —  no  chem- 
ist has  as  yet  found  the  elements  of  things,  or  can 
conceive  or  imagine  how  they  can  be  found  ;  that  is, 
you  cannot  imagine  yourself  to  find  a  substance  so 
simple  as  to  give  you  certain  proof  that  it  is  not  sus- 
ceptible of  a  new  analysis.  Nature  keeps  retiring  as 
with  new  implements  we  pursue  her,  and  no  one  can 
say  that  a  simple  substance  has  yet  been  found.  Every 
discovery  reveals  new  questions  and  new  ignorance  ; 
and  even  the  known  leads  to  the  unknown.  So  in 
metaphysics,  who  can  say  that  the  permanent  termi- 
nology has  yet  been  found.  Every  analysis  has  been 
analyzed  upon,  and  the  absolute  idea  eludes  our  grasp. 
It  is  not  sceptics  alone,  like  Hume,  that  enforce  this 
confession  of  ignorance  in  order  to  perplex  our  faith, 
but  the  most  earnest  writers,  the  most  sincere,  have 
been  the  first  to  allow  it.  Nay,  even  the  Bible  itself 
says,  "We  see  through  a  glass  darkly."  (1  Cor.  xiii. 
12.)  Let  any  one  read  the  thirty-eighth,  thirty-ninth, 
and  fortieth  chapters  of  Job,  and  reflect  on  the  testi- 
mony of  God  himself  to  a  position  which,  by  denying 


THE  MA_NUDUCTION.  123 

all  human  wisdom,  leads  to  the  truest  wisdom.  Pas- 
cal owns  it.  Bishop  Butler,  the  acutest  of  all  moral 
writers,  and  the  most  earnest,  lays  the  foundation  of 
his  whole  system  in  the  ignorance  of  man.  "Our 
own  nature,  and  the  objects  we  are  surrounded  with, 
serve  to  raise  our  curiosity ;  but  we  are  quite  out 
of  a  condition  of  satisfying  it.  Every  secret  which  is 
disclosed,  every  discovery  which  is  made,  every  new 
effect  which  is  brought  to  view,  serves  to  convince  us. 
of  numberless  more  which  remain  concealed,  and  which 
we  had  before  no  suspicion  of.  And  what  if  we  were 
acquainted  with  the  whole  creation,  in  the  same  way 
and  as  thoroughly  as  we  are  with  any  single  object  of 
it.  What  would  all  this  natural  knowledge  amount 
to  ?  It  must  be  a  low  curiosity  indeed  which  such 
superficial  knowledge  could  satisfy.  On  the  contrary, 
would  it  not  serve  to  convince  us  of  our  ignorance 
still,  and  to  raise  our  desire  of  knowing  the  nature  of 
things  themselves,  the  author,  the  cause,  and  the  end 
of  them  ?  "  (Sermons,  Ser.  XY.)  And  in  his  Anal- 
ogy he  says:  "To  us  probability  is  the  guide  of  life." 

Indeed,  every  self-knowing  man  must  assent  to  the 
proofs  offered  by  philosophers,  repeated  by  saints,  and 
confirmed  by  the  solemn  testimony  of  inspiration  itself. 
We  seldom  find  an  intelligent  believer  in  revelation 
who  is  not  something  of  a  distrustful  sceptic  in  phi- 
losophy. 

But  now  comes  the  difficulty.     How  shall  we  recon- 


124  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

cile  the  testimony  to  the  weakness  of  our  powers  with 
the  claims  of  revelation  ?  Our  Savioiir  requires  faith,  — 
strong  faith, —  strong  enough  to  conquer  our  sins  and 
throw  us  even  on  martyrdom.  We  must  take  up  our 
cross ;  we  must  have  a  strength  of  principle  which 
pleasure  cannot  soften  nor  danger  subdue.  In  short, 
we  must  be  enthusiasts  in  his  cause.  But  did  enthu- 
siasm ever  arise  in  a  speculating,  questioning,  object- 
ing, balancing,  doubtful  mind  ?  Does  it  not  spring 
from  deep  conviction  ?  Must  not  the  mind  be  sure 
before  the  heart  can  burn  ?  Could  Bayle,  Gibbon, 
Hume,  be  religious  enthusiasts  ?  And  does  not  even 
the  reverential  Butler,  —  though  he  answers  objections 
wonderfully,  and  satisfies  our  intellectual  nature, — 
does  he  not  in  his  Sermons  and  Analogy  leave  the 
reader's  heart  as  cold  as  his  own  ?  This  objection  to 
such  rational  but  weak  convictions  is  an  old  one.  It 
was  made  by  Lucullus  in  Cicero  to  the  old  Academics, 
whose  views  of  human  ignorance  were  very  similar  to 
those  of  Butler :  "  Maxime  vero  virtutum  cognitio  con- 
firmat,  percipi  et  comprehend!  multa  posse.  In  quibus 
solis  inesse  scientiam  dicimus ;  quam  nos  non  com- 
prehensionem  modo  rerum,  sed  earn  stabilem  quoque 
atque  immutabilem  esse  censemus :  itemque  sapientiam, 
artem  vivendi,  quae  ipsa  ex  sese  habeat  constantiam. 
Ea  autem  constantia  si  nihil  habeat  percepti  et  cog- 
niti,  quaero,  unde  nata  sit  et  quammodo  ?  Quaero 
etiam,  ille  vir  bonus,  qui  statuit  omnem  cruciatum  per- 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  125 

ferre,  intolerabili  dolore  lacerari,  potius  quam  aut  offi- 
cium  prodat,  aut  fidem,  cur  has  sibi  tarn  graves  leges 
imposuerit,  cum,  quamobrem  ita  oporteret,  nihil  ha- 
beret  comprehensi,  percept! ,  cogniti,  constituti  ?  Nullo  ' 
igitur  modo  fieri  potest,  ut  quisquam  tanti  aestimet 
aequitatem  et  fidem,  ut  ejus  conservandae  causa  nul- 
lum  supplicium  recuset,  nisi  iis  rebus  assensus  sit, 
quae  falsae  esse  non  possunt."  (Cicero's  Lucullus, 
Sect.  8.)  And  we  all  feel  that  ardor  leads  to  strong 
conviction,  and  strong  conviction  increases  our  ardor. 
Hence  our  Saviour  inculcates  strong  faith  on  his  dis- 
ciples, and  they  pray  to  him,  "  Lord,  increase  our 
faith." 

Now  how  are  these  opposite  claims  of  our  nature 
to  be  met?  How  are  we  to  avoid  at  once  the  blind 
confidence  of  a  deluded  mind,  and  the  cold  indiffer- 
ence of  a  doubting  heart  ? 

The  answer,  it  seems  to  me,  is  suggested  in  this 
wonderful  Song  of  Solomon,  and  in  the  view  of  our  na- 
ture and  of  religion  to  which  it  leads  us.  The  bride 
is  full  of  ardor  to  her  celestial  bridegroom,  and  has 
no  doubt  of  the  beauty  she  perceives.  He  is  to  her 
the  chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  altogether  lovely. 
She  is  at  least  sure  of  that.  Her  confidence  does  not 
come  from  a  doubtful  solution  of  doubtful  doubts,  but 
from  a  vivid  perception  of  unspeakable  excellence. 
"  My  beloved  is  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart :  behold, 
he  standeth  behind  our  wall,  he  looketh  forth  at  the 


126  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

windows,  showing  himself  through  the  lattice."  (Sol- 
omon's Song,  ii.  9.)  Religion  has  a  region  of  its  own. 
Divine  beauty  warrants  its  own  reality ;  and  then  it 
stands  on  the  basis  of  one  of  our  most  certain  con- 
ceptions. 

Take  the  Platonic  way  of  proving,  first  supposing 
the  existence  of  a  principle,  then  its  non-existence ; 
place  it,  take  it  away,  and  see  the  consequences  of 
each  hypothesis.  First,  let  us  deny  that  an  individual 
has  any  perception  o.r  any  belief  that  his  susceptibility 
of  pleasure  or  pain  have  anything  to  do,  as  exponents 
or  effects,  with  justice  or  benevolence  in  God  or  man ; 
or  suppose  the  perception  to  be  feeble  or  doubtful ; 
of  course  the  world  of  religious  ideas  is  lost  to  him, 
—  he  can  no  more  be  susceptible  to  religious  impres- 
sions than  iron  can  have  the  malleability  of  lead.  Tell 
him  the  story  of  the  good  Samaritan,  or  of  Christ  dy- 
ing on  the  cross  ;  it  is  lost  to  him,  —  he  cannot  believe 
in  a  world  that  he  cannot  see.  Place  the  perception 
before  him,  with  all  its  circling  host  of  beauties  and 
glories,  and  a  new  scene  opens.  The  ideal  is  at  least 
beautiful.  Give  him  the  relish  for  benevolence, — the 
aim,  the  design,  the  pleasure,  —  and  his  ardor  is  kin- 
dled, and  he  knows  how  to  found  a  strong  faith  on  a 
system  that  has  every  evidence  but  that  of  a  math- 
ematical demonstration.  His  metaphysical  proof,  per- 
haps, has  not  increased,  but  his  heart  burns. 

I  lately  looked  out  of  my  window,  and  saw  the  frag- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  127 

inent  of  a  rainbow  painted  on  the  fragment  of  a 
cloud.  Whatever  a  rainbow  may  be  as  a  series  of 
causes,  it  is,  it  was,  supremely  beautiful ;  and  its 
beauty  is  nine  tenths  of  its  existence.  My  admiration 
was  fixed  on  its  greatest  reality. 

This,  then,  is  the  nature  of  strong  faith.  It  is  strong 
relative  to  the  powers  of  man,  because  it  is  felt  under 
the  condition  of  feeble  powers,  moral  proofs,  natural 
doubts,  sinful  blindness,  and  a  perception  vivid  enough 
to  overcome  them  all.  It  is  strong,  as  the  earthquake 
is  strong  when  it  shakes  the  mountain,  because  it  over- 
comes the  strong  power  of  gravitation.  It  is  strong, 
because  it  can  conquer  the  natural  apathy  and  scep- 
ticism of  the  human  heart.  It  is  strong  as  a  light- 
house beam  is  strong  in  a  stormy  night  when  it  shines 
over  a  dark  sea. 

Our  Saviour  seems  to  sanction  our  view  of  the  ori- 
gin of  all  the  benevolent  affections,  and,  of  course, 
all  virtue  in  our  susceptibilities  of  pain  and  happi- 
ness, when  he  says  :  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them ; 
for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets."  (Matt.  vii.  12.) 
This  passage  is  an  appeal  to  our  experience,  —  our 
Lord  makes  our  selfishness  our  instructor.  The  mean- 
ing seems  to  be,  You  have  suffered  from  your  fellow- 
men  ;  you  know  the  bitterness  of  an  injury.  Have 
you  been  neglected,  scorned,  slandered,  imprisoned  ? 
Let  your  sufferings  instruct  you,  and  beware  how  yoi 

" 


V 


I 


128  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

inflict  what  you  shudder  to  feel.  On  the  other  hand, 
have  you  been  relieved  ?  Have  you  heard  the  sweet 
voice  of  consolation  ?  Were  you  hungry,  and  did  some 
one  feed  you  ?  Were  you  in  prison,  and  did  he  come 
unto  you  ?  It  is  at  once  a  lesson  and  a  motive  to 
scatter  the  bliss  which  your  own  experience  has  taught 
you  to  prize.  Now,  in  all  this,  is  not  the  assump- 
tion that  all  our  moral  conceptions  spring  up  from 
one  centre,  our  sentient  nature,  our  susceptibility  of 
pain  and  pleasure,  the  exponent  of  a  good  or  bad 
intention  in  him  that  imparts  them  ? 

There  is  yet  another  application  of  this  subject. 
Our  Saviour  says :  "  Wisdom  is  justified  of  all  her 
children  "  (Luke  vii.  35)  ;  implying,  no  doubt,  that  she 
is  not  justified  by  those  who  are  not  her  children. 
And  it  is  curious  to  see  how,  in  all  the  forms  in 
which  the  wisdom  of  God  is  manifested,  men  judge 
as  their  moral  taste  directs  their  attention.  Everything 
has  two  handles,  and  we  may  take  hold  of  it  by  the 
best  or  the  worst.  We  can  scarcely  admit  a  moral 
or  political  hypothesis,  but  we  can  collect  a  train  of 
facts  to  support  it.  If  there  be  a  God,  no  doubt  the 
material  creation  is  a  manifestation  of  his  wisdom ; 
but  then,  as  Burke  says,  "  a  mind  that  has  no  re- 
straint from  its  own  weakness,  would  not  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  criticise  creation  itself.  Indeed,  it  has  been 
done.  That  beautiful  order  which  Cicero's  Lucullus 
sees  in  the  creation  —  "Terra  vestita  floribus,"  &c., 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  129 

in  the  Second  Book  De  Natura  Deorum — is  reversed 
completely  by  Lucretius  in  his  Fifth  Book.  The  one 
says  the  earth  is  so  beautiful  that  it  must  have  been 
made  by  God  ;  the  other  says  it  is  so  abominably  bad 
that  it  cannot  be  the  work  of  a  good  being. 

"Nequaquam  nobis  divinitus  esse  paratam 
Naturam  rerum,  tanta  stat  praedita  culpa." 

De  Rerum  Natura,  Lib.  V. 

"Where  Dr.  Paley  finds  such  proofs  of  wise  design, 
the  Epicurean  sees  nothing  but  disorder  and  confu- 
sion ;  and  the  way  "they  prove  their  point  is,  —  the 
theist  selects  all  the  good  things  in  creation  he  can 
find,  and  the  infidel  all  that  he  fancies  to  be  bad ;  the 
one  fastens  on  the  rose,  and  the  other  the  thorn  ;  so, 
in  surveying  the  course  of  providence,  how  different 
the  selection !  The  pious  man  can  tell  you  how  often 
his  prayers  have  been  answered,  and  the  sceptic  can 
show  how  often  they  have  been  frustrated.  Bayle  and 
St.  Bernard  would  each  have  their  long  catalogue,  not 
one  item  of  which  would  be  the  same.  Claudian  dif- 
fered from  himself;  and,  in  Diogenes's  view,  Harpalus 
bears  witness  against  the  very  existence  of  the  gods. 
The  question  whether  the  good  old  times  were  better 
than  the  present,  always  sets  different  men  to  selecting 
different  series  of  facts.  In  order  to  prove  that  man- 
kind have  degenerated,  all  you  have  to  do  is,  hunt 
up  the  heroes,  collect  their  good  deeds  leave  out  all 
6*  t 


130  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

their  faults  and  imperfections,  throw  into  shade  com- 
mon life,  present  the  worst  side  of  modern  life,  —  in 
short,  instead  of  two  full  pictures,  get  two  profiles 
of  faults  concealed  and  beauties  selected,  and  vice 
versa,  and  you  can  prove  your  point  to  your  own 
complete  satisfaction.  But  there  is  no  place  where 
our  Saviour's  remark  is  more  applicable  than  to  the 
Bible.  If  the  Bible  is  the  Word,  it  is,  of  course, 
the  wisdom  of  God  ;  here  wisdom  is  justified  of  all 
her  children,  and  of  none  others.  I  have  often  ad- 
mired, in  reading  the  criticisms  of  Eichhorn,  Rosen- 
miiller,  Strauss,  &c.,  how  ingenious  they  are  in  finding 
all  that  makes  against  supernaturalism,  and  nothing 
in  its  favor.  It  is  really  marvellous.  Difficulties 
which  I  never  thought  of — which  occurred  not  to 
the  Calvins  and  Pooles,  and  even  the  Grotiuses  of  the 
Reformation  —  spring  up  in  their  minds  like  weeds 
among  the  flowers.  Thus  the  story  of  the  garden  of 
Eden  and  the  Fall,  illustrating  the  purpose  and  design 
of  God,  is  a  myth ;  the  flood,  instead  of  being  a  sur- 
prising miracle,  is  an  impossibility ;  the  awful  dark- 
ness on  Sinai  is  a  thunder-storm,  and,  some  say,  a 
brushwood  fire  kindled  by  Moses ;  while  the  wonder- 
ful law  engraved  on  tables  of  stone  (certainly  won- 
derful for  the  charlatan  that  kindled  the  brushwood 
fire)  attracts  no  attention.  The  sublime  unity  which 
runs  through  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New,  such  as 
is  shown  by  Edwards  in  his  History  of  Redemption, 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  131 

they  never  see  nor  suspect.  The  Bible  to  them  is  a 
book  of  fragments.  Its  supernaturalism  is  not  needed, 
and  has,  therefore,  no  end  or  aim.  They  expatiate  on 
the  trifling  laws  in  Leviticus,  but  not  a  word  about  the 
remarkable  book,  Deuteronomy.  The  ritual  of  Moses 
they  gloat  on ;  the  pure  devotion  of  the  Psalms  they 
cannot  see  ;  —  in  short,  there  reigns  in  all  their  works 
this  sophism :  with  a  perverse  ingenuity  to  select  all 
the  archaisms  of  the  Bible,  exaggerate  them  and  turn 
them  into  myths,  ignore  all  that  is  sublime  and  spir- 
itual, totally  to  overlook  its  unity,  and  thus  prove  that 
the  Bible  cannot  receive  our  veneration  as  the  word 
of  God.  0  what  blindness !  0  what  penetration !  Pen- 
etration to  see  all  that  has  the  shadow  of  an  objection, 
and  blindness  to  all  the  truth  by  which  the  objection 
might  be  removed.  If  Psyche,  when  she  was  ordered 
to  select  the  seeds,  had  taken  the  poppy  and  vetches 
to  herself,  and  left  wheat  and  barley  to  the  goddess 
of  beauty,  she  would  have  left  us  an  expressive  myth 
of  modern  learning. 

Now  the  question  comes,  How  is  it  that  men,  pro- 
fessing to  be  scholars,  —  and  some  of  them  Christians, 
—  can  see  the  word  of  God  in  such  a  wonderful  light  ? 
We  can  only  quote  the  Saviour's  maxim,  —  "Wisdom 
is  justified  of  all  her  children."  The  reason  why  men 
select  in  this  way  must  be  that  they  have  no  percep- 
tion of  the  glory  that  gilds  the  sacred  page.  If  the 
wisdom  of  God  is  there,  they  certainly  do  not  see  it. 


132  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

I  allow,  indeed,  that  there  are  difficulties  in  the  sacred 
history ;  but  I  utterly  deny  that  a  man  is  prepared 
to  encounter  them  until  he  has  seen  the  wisdom  with 
which  they  are  combined.  No  man  is  fit  even  to 
weed  a  garden,  until  he  is  taught,  both  by  taste  and 
experience,  to  distinguish  the  weeds  from  the  flowers. 
I  will  only  add,  that  I  suppose  all  the  apparent  weeds 
in  the  garden  of  God  (i.  e.  the  apparent  myths  in 
this  ancient  record)  to  arise  from  the  Divine  conde- 
scension to  the  wants  of  mankind.  If  the  Bible  comes 
from  the  sublimest  of  Beings,  we  must  equally  remem- 
ber it  is  addressed  to  the  meanest. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  133 


V. 


THE    DRAMATIC   ELEMENT   IN   INTERPRETING 
THE   BIBLE. 

THE  first  and  most  important  principle  in  the  Chris- 
tian religion  is  to  believe  in  the  existence  and  author- 
ity of  a  Divine  revelation.  Our  religion  is  founded 
on  faith,  and  our  faith  rests  on  a  Divine  testimony. 
God  has  spoken,  and  "  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  pow- 
erful ;  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty."  It 
is  implied  in  a  revelation,  that  we  have  more  power 
to  see  and  prove  that  the  Bible  is  a  Divine  revela- 
tion, than  we  have  to  foretell  what  its  components 
should  be,  —  that  is,  we  have  a  recognizing,  but  not 
an  inventing  power. 

The  authority  of  Scripture  depends  on  inspiration. 
"  All  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God."  (2  Tim- 
othy iii.  16.) 

I  am  in  favor  of  adopting  the  highest  ideas  of  in- 
spiration. The  teachings  of  God  cannot  be  too  com- 
plete. He  has  exhausted  the  power  of  language.  It 
is  a  marvellous  instrument  used  by  an  omniscient 
tongue.  So  that  we  may  say,  with  Hilarius:  "De  in- 


134  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

telligentia  haeresis,  non  de  scriptura ;  et  sensus,  non 
sermo,  fit  crimen  ;  "  —  "  Heresy  arises  from  misunder- 
standing the  Scripture ;  not  from  any  defect  in  the 
Scripture  itself.  The  fault  is  in  the  interpretation." 

But  though  I  believe  in  the  highest  inspiration,  for 
that  very  reason  I  do  not  believe  in  a  verbal  inspira- 
tion. 

The  reasons  for  not  believing  in  a  verbal  inspira- 
tion are  :  — 

First,  it  is  not  necessary  to  the  highest  accuracy  ; 
a  single  word  is  not  the  best  way  to  fix  an  important 
meaning.  Secondly,  if  the  inspiration  were  verbal,  it 
would  cease  with  the  first  translation,  and  no  one  pre- 
tends that  translators  were  inspired.  Thirdly,  the  Apos- 
tles are  very  careless  about  verbal  accuracy.  They 
have  a  holy  indifference  to  a  minute  and  literal  exact- 
ness. They  quote  from  the  Septuagint,  and  sometimes 
apparently  from  memory.  Fourthly,  God  has  not  pre- 
served the  copies  verbally  perfect,  which  seems  neces- 
sary to  place  us  on  a  level  with  the  first  receivers 
of  the  Word.  He  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  Fifthly, 
each  writer  shows  his  own  spontaneous  genius.  Sixthly, 
the  Greek  language  makes  a  distinction  between  \oyoi 
and  pfoaTa,  —  the  mental  and  the  spoken  word,  — 
and  it  seems  to  confine  inspiration  to  the  former. 
Seventhly,  in  the  parallel  places  .  (as  the  inscription 
of  the  cross,  &c.)  there  is  a  verbal  variety.  How  is 
this,  if  the  Scriptures  aimed  to  teach  us  a  verbal  in- 


THE  MANUDUCTTON.  135 

spiration  ?  *  Eighthly,  if  verbal  accuracy  had  been 
necessary,  God  would  hardly  have  chosen  so  primitive 
a  language  as  the  Hebrew  as  a  vehicle  of  the  greater 
part  of  inspiration.  And,  lastly,  none  of  the  passages 
claimed  as  teaching  verbal  inspiration  necessitate  that 
meaning,  as  1  Cor.  ii.  13  ;  not  in  the  words  of  mortal 
wisdom,  but  \oyoi  which  the  Holy  Ghost  teacheth,  inter- 
preting' spiritual  thoughts  in  spiritual  terminology.  And 
further,  the  most  important  words  in  revelation  depend 
upon  something  behind  themselves.  A  long  history  is 
sometimes  given  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  concep- 
tion of  a  word.  Thus  the  word  GOD  would  not  be 
understood  by  a  pagan  mind.  The  history  of  what 
God  has  done  shows  who  God  is.  CREATOR  is  a  word 
that  poorly  imparts  its  own  meaning.  Providence, 
soul,  sacrifice,  expiation,  the  Holy  Spirit,  Divine  influ- 
ence, faith,  justification,  an  apostle,  —  all  are  terms 
which  are  explained  by  their  collocation  in  the  great 
system.  We  must  travel  beyond  the  word  to  find  its 

*  The  two  recensions  of  the  eighteenth  Psalm  are  sufficient  to  show  that 
the  sacred  writers  did  not  embark  their  meaning  in  a  bottom  of  frail  verbal- 
isms. Let  the  reader  compare  the  readings  in  2  Samuel  xxii.  and  those  in 
the  eighteenth  Psalm,  and  mark  the  significance.  Two  things  are  notice- 
able ;  —  first,  the  verbal  variety,  precluding  all  possibility  of  contingency, 
and  secondly,  the  non-importance  of  the  difference.  Not  one  of  the  changes 
in  the  later  copy  (whichever  it  be)  has  more  than  a  shade  of  change  in 
the  meaning.  The  lesson  of  comparing  the  two  seems  to  be,  —  Be  not 
a  pedant ;  be  not  a  word-catcher,  that  lives  on  syllables  ;  rise  to  the  grand- 
eur of  a  Divine  conception,  and  place  the  strength  of  Scripture  where 
God,  by  his  own  example,  has  placed  it. 


136  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

meaning.  If  you  insist  on  a  verbal  inspiration,  you 
inevitably  narrow  your  mind  down  to  a  partial  concep- 
tion, and,  of  course,  a  weaker  one  ;  to  say  nothing  of 
the  host  of  difficulties  which  you  raise  against  your 
system,  which  will  inject  doubts  into  other  minds,  if 
not  your  own.  The  Bible  is  as  perfect  as  it  can  be. 
It  has  the  perfection  of  God. 

The  aim  of  the  verbalists  is  good,  but  is  not  reached. 
The  sacred  writers  seem  to  feel  very  much  as  a  lawyer 
does  in  making  out  his  declaration  or  rejoinder  in  a 
cause  ;  he  dare  not  trust  one  word,  —  he  varies  his 
expressions ;  and  I  have  been  told  that  Judge  Par- 
sons was  accustomed  to  say,  "  Better  use  twenty  words 
too  many,  than  one  too  few."  The  Hebrew  language 
is  always  correcting  itself,  —  repeating  the  idea.  You 
see  the  relics  of  picture-writing.  The  parallelisms  in 
Psalms,  Proverbs,  Job,  the  Prophets,  are  remarkable, 
and  they  use  poetry  and  comparison  endlessly, — just 
like  men  who  did  not  embark  their  meaning  in  a  sin- 
gle delegated  word.  Indeed,  the  question  becomes  use- 
less when  we  remember  the  omniscience  and  general 
perfection  of  God.  Contingencies  are  nothing  to  him. 
His  will  shines  through  them.  The  Syro-Chaldaic  was 
spoken  in  Palestine  in  the  time  of  Christ,  and  Dr. 
Davidson  thinks  Matthew  was  written  in  this  dialect. 
So  the  most  important  teacher  eludes  our  verbal  grasp. 
The  original  verbal  inspiration  of  Christ's  discourses 
is  not  preserved  to  us. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  137 

One  of  the  difficulties  respecting  inspiration  arises 
from  not  understanding  its  nature  and  design,  —  in 
whose  rnind  it  originates,  and  to  what  purpose  it  is 
directed.  It  originates  in  the  Divine  mind,  and  is  a 
perfection  of  God,  and  its  object  is  to  set  before  man 
an  infallible  standard  of  religious  instruction.  It  is 
a  perfection  of  God,  or  rather  emanates  from  his  per- 
fection, and  therefore  transcends  the  artificial  and  pos- 
tulated perfection  of  man.  When  men  hear  of  per- 
fection, they  immediately  think  of  a  minute,  pedantic 
perfection  of  their  own.  God's  perfection  is  not  our 
perfection,  as  "  his  ways  are  not  our  ways,  nor  his 
thoughts  our  thoughts."  I  grant  that  Divine  inspi- 
ration implies  an  infallible  rule ;  but  that  rule  lies 
deeper  than  some  suppose.  The  rule  is  infallible  when 
we  find  it ;  just  as  the  healing  root  is  powerful  when 
we  dig  it  from  the  earth.  The  material  world,  I  have 
no  doubt,  for  the  Divine  design  is  perfect.  It  was 
built  and  shaped  by  an  unerring  hand.  But  how 
many  random  contingencies  are  revealed  beneath  its 
surface !  The  central  heat,  the  sea,  the  frost,  the  rain, 
the  warring  elements,  in  all  their  apparent  discord, 
have  combined  to  build  up  the  beautiful  surface  of  our 
inhabited  earth,  —  a  wise  result  from  the  most  chaotic 
operations.  Nature  tumbles  her  elements  into  a  divine 
order.  Wisdom  is  there  with  a  veil  over  her  face. 

So  with  regard  to  inspiration ;  it  conforms  to  no 
rules  of  postulated  perfection.  I  object  to  a  literal, 


138  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

verbal  inspiration,  because  it  does  not  place  the  au- 
thority of  the  Bible  high  enough.  It  transcends  all 
such  narrow  rules.  The  dispute  whether  God  gave 
the  very  words  to  Isaiah  or  Ezekiel,  and  whether  the 
affirmative  is  necessary  to  the  highest  authority  of  Scrip- 
ture, forgets  one  manifest  perfection  in  the  Author  of 
inspiration,  and  that  is,  his  foresight  of  all  contingencies, 
and  the  impossibility  that  Isaiah  or  Ezekiel,  if  they 
were  selected  by  his  wisdom,  should  cross  his  intentions. 
Paul  was  a  chosen  vessel.  Did  not  God  know  his  ge- 
nius, his  character,  his  turn  of  thought,  his  favorite 
expressions,  all  he  had  done  and  all  he  would  do,  and, 
when  he  was  writing  his  Epistles,  did  he  for  a  single 
moment  evade  the  eye  of  Omniscience  ?  Let  us  illus- 
trate. We  read  (2  Samuel  viii.  16,  17)  that,  when 
David  was  king,  "  Joab  the  son  of  Zeruiah  was  over  the 
host ;  and  Jehoshaphat  the  son  of  Ahilud  was  recorder ; 
and  Zadok  the  son  of  Ahitub,  and  Ahimelech  the  son 
of  Abiathar,  were  the  priests  ;  and  Seraiah  was  scribe." 
We  will  suppose  that  the  king  wishes  Seraiah  to  make 
out  some  written  despatch  to  convey  his  royal  will 
to  some  remote  part  of  the  kingdom.  He  knows 
very  well  his  capacity,  his  style,  —  often  the  very  words 
he  will  use.  He  chose  him  on  the  grounds  of  this 
knowledge.  The  order  is  made  out,  is  read  to  the 
king  ;  he  approves  or  suggests  some  correction.  The 
order  is  sealed  and  sent.  Now,  I  ask,  can  anything 
be  conceived,  as  far  as  language  can  go,  more  ade- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  139 

quately  to  convey  the  mind  of  the  king  ?  He  is  saga- 
cious ;  he  selected  the  man ;  he  knows  his  style,  and 
he  has  reviewed  his  composition ;  —  and  yet  the  writ- 
ing has  all  the  peculiarities  of  style  and  expression 
belonging  to  Seraiah,  and  not  to  David.  But  when 
we  ascend  to  an  infallible  God,  and  consider  his  om- 
niscient foresight  and  perfection,  how  much  stronger 
becomes  the  case  !  It  is  utterly  superfluous  to  ask  for 
words,  the  dress  of  thought,  when  we  have  the  thing 
itself  beaming  into  the  soul.  If  the  inspiration  were 
merely  verbal,  the  infallibility  would  cease  with  the  first 
translation.  But  now  it  stands  on  higher  ground.  It 
transcends  all  language,  —  it  is  above  the  imperfection 
of  the  instrument  that  conveys  it.  It  is  "  holy  light, 
the  bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  increate." 

I  pass  by  many  other  imperfections,  which,  as  a 
darkling  veil,  seem  to  cloud  this  recondite  perfection 
of  God, —  such  as  the  errors  in  the  copies,  the  imper- 
fections of  an  early  language  in  which  the  older  part  of 
the  Bible  is  written  ;  the  unexact  chronology ;  the  dis- 
crepancies of  the  books  that  relate  the  same  things 
and  cover  the  same  period ;  the  harshness  of  some 
commands,  and  the  vindictive  piety  which  appears  in 
the  prayer  and  praises  of  the  early  saints,  —  all  these 
are  explained,  or  greatly  mitigated,  by  our  imper- 
fect judgments,  formed  at  a  distance  from  the  scene. 
There  is  one  mode  of  instruction  adopted  by  the  sa- 
cred writers  which  has  perplexed  the  doctrine  of  inspi- 


140  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

ration  more  than  any  other  ;  I  allude  to  the  DRAMATIC 
ELEMENT,  which  the  sacred  writers  have  often  chosen 
to  impress  their  sentiments,  and  which  has  failed  of  its 
purpose  because  in  interpreting  it  we  apply  a  rule  de- 
manded only  by  our  artificial  exactions. 

When  you  depart  from  the  didactic  school,  all  the 
other  methods  of  instructing  become  necessary  and  im- 
portant, such  as  rhetoric,  poetry,  painting,  tautology, 
figures,  soliloquies,  and  dialogues.  These  are  eminently 
the  implements  of  thought  in  an  early  age.  They  are 
used  by  the  sacred  writers,  and  inspiration  itself  has 
chosen  them  to  clothe  its  instructions  in.  But  one 
form  most  frequently  used  has  been  least  understood, 
and  that  is  the  dramatic,  —  and  even  learned  critics 
have  hardly  comprehended  its  laws  when  applied  to 
the  Bible.  The  reason  is,  they  hardly  have  been  con- 
scious of  its  existence.  They  have  hardly  recognized 
this  important  element  in  its  infant  form,  in  an  early 
age.  They  have  not  felt  that  we  should  interpret  the 
Bible  as  we  do  JBschylus  or  Shakespeare,  making,  in- 
deed, due  allowance  for  the  degree  of  development. 
It  is  well  known  that  all  the  families  of  languages  cog 
nate  to  the  Hebrew  were  spoken  by  a  people  as  remote 
from  the  drama  as  possible, — the  Ethiopians,  the  Arabs, 
the  Jews ;  they  never  had  the  drama  in  the  Greek 
form.  They  had  no  stage.  Even  the  Caliphs  of  Bag- 
dad and  the  Arabs  in  Spain  had  no  proper  drama ; 
and  the  Jewish  literature  throughout  seems  very  re- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  141 

mote  from  it.  But  because  a  people  have  no  formal 
drama,  it  does  not  follow  that  they  have  no  budding 
elements,  no  embryos  of  it,  from  which  its  manhood 
first  grew.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  want 
of  a  developed  drama  only  necessitated  the  use  of  a 
greater  portion  of  these  incipient  modules.  The  dra- 
matic is  essential  to  man.  Our  whole  intercourse  of 
life  is  a  conversation.  We  never  go  into  company 
without  a  scene  and  a  dialogue.  We  may  say  the 
scene  is  a  wood,  a  meadow,  a  parlor,  or  a  car ;  and 
the  dialogue  was  so  and  so,  witty  or  pathetic,  inter- 
esting or  otherwise.  Now  this  peculiar  form  in  which 
the  Biblical  drama  meets  us  has  deceived  the  critics. 
It  is  never  formal,  it  is  often  transient,  and  it  is  always 
infantine.  It  is  sometimes  a  single  soliloquy ;  it  is 
often  a  mental  dialogue ;  the  dialogists  are  never  an- 
nounced ;  the  changes  in  the  persons  are  sudden  ;  there 
is  never  a  regular  plot.  It  is  a  fragment  of  a  drama ; 
it  is  the  picturing  of  passion,  hope,  fear,  resentment, 
grief,  repentance,  temptation,  agony,  despair,  —  things 
which  demand  a  dramatic  interpretation  without  warn- 
ing you  of  a  dramatic  form.  Thus  the  Book  of  Eccle- 
siastes  is  a  continued  record  of  personal  disappoint- 
ment, in  which  the  future  is  taught  under  the  paulo- 
post  present.  "  It  is  a  certain  fact,"  says  Professor 
Richardson,  "  confirmed  by  universal  experience,  and 
it  may  be  laid  down  as  an  important  axiom  in  the 
study  of  human  nature,  that  our  notions  and  opinions 


142  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

are  ever  influenced  by  our  present  temper.  Happy  is 
the  man  that  is  often  calm  and  dispassionate  ;  who,  im- 
pelled by  no  eager  appetite,  nor  urged  by  any  restless 
affection,  sees  every  object  by  the  unerring  light  of 
reason,  and  is  not  imposed  upon  by  the  fallacious  me- 
dium of  his  desires."  (A  Philosophical  Analysis  and 
Illustration  of  some  of  Shakespeare's  Kemarkable  Char- 
acters.) Now,  this  profound  remark,  which  Richardson 
applies  to  explain  the  difficult  character  of  Hamlet, 
is  the  very  key  to  explain  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes. 
Every  sentiment  of  the  book  is  the  coloring  of  the 
moment,  and  as  the  author  recovers  the  healthful  tone 
of  the  heart  through  his  own  experience,  he  comes 
to  a  more  correct  view  of  life  and  of  God.  This  whole 
result,  this  grand  effect,  this  total  impression,  is  the  in- 
fallible instruction  of  inspiration.  The  Fifty-first  Psalm 
is  a  soliloquy  of  one  under  the  sorrows  of  repentance. 
It  is  a  picture  of  its  progress.  You  might  say, — Scene, 
a  closet ;  David  alone,  leaning  his  head  on  his  hand ; 
his  neglected  harp  unstrung ;  tears  falling  from  his 
eyes ;  and  in  a  tremulous  voice  he  speaks,  *43f7>  Mer- 
cy,  have  mercy !  In  one  verb,  he  puts  words  into  our 
mouth,  thoughts  into  the  mind,  emotions  into  the  heart. 
Something  far  more  powerful  than  didactics  can  reach. 
So  the  Hundred  and  Third  Psalm  is  the  language  of 
prosperity.  In  the  Prophets,  the  germs  of  a  dialogue 
appear  and  vanish  so  suddenly,  that  our  Occidental 
slowness  can  hardly  follow  them;  and  yet  the  drama 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  143 

is   there,  —  the    primitive   drama,   intelligible    only   to 
him  whose  exercised  taste  grasps  the  design. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  objected,  that,  if  this  principle  be 
admitted,  it  throws  the  meaning  so  far  back  that  the 
book  intended  for  the  common  reader  becomes  unin- 
telligible to  him.  No,  —  the  unintelligibility  belongs  to 
a  mind  in  the  transition  state,  —  the  half-learned,  not 
the  primitive.  Common  life,  even  now,  is  full  of  such 
dramas,  so  uttered  and  so  understood.  When  a  man 
cries  out  "  Murder !  "  or  "  Fire  ! "  he  is  not  laying 
down  a  proposition,  but  he  is  expressing  a  passion.  If 
a  watchman  in  Boston  were  to  say,  There  is  a  murder 
now  being  committed  in  State  Street,  opposite  to  num- 
ber thirty-seven,  at  this  very  hour,  half  past  one,  of  this 
foggy  night,  —  no  one  would  believe  him.  The  diffi- 
culty is,  we  approach  the  Bible  in  the  anti-original 
state.  It  was  eminently  popular  and  perfectly  intelligi- 
ble in  its  day ;  and  even  now  many  of  its  passages  would 
be  better  understood  by  a  pious  old  woman  with  good 
taste,  than  by  a  half-learned  professor  whose  taste  had 
been  manufactured  for  him.  Three  things  deceive  us, 
and  prevent  our  applying  the  simple  rule  ;  —  first,  the 
great  antiquity  of  the  book ;  secondly,  the  informal 
and  primitive  character  of  the  dramatic  element ;  and 
thirdly,  the  solemnity  of  its  instruction ;  or,  in  other 
words,  inspiration  at  first  view  seems  to  necessitate  a 
perfection  which  would  supersede  and  destroy  all  the 
human  modes  of  teaching.  Hence  the  modern  reader 


144  THE  MANUDUCTTON. 

approaches  the  Bible  in  a  frame  of  mind  the  very  excel- 
lence of  which  deceives  him.  It  is  important  for  us  to 
have  veneration ;  but  let  us  remember  an  uninstructed 
veneration  may  sometimes  mislead  us. 

Every  scholar  knows  that  Plato's  Dialogues,  as  to 
their  diction,  are  written  with  all  the  airy  lightness  of 
conversational  life.  But  they  are  on  great  subjects  ; 
they  are  written  in  Greek  ;  the  dialogue  is  sustained 
by  Socrates,  the  great  philosopher  ;  and  the  airy  con- 
versational tone  is  the  very  difficulty  which  impedes 
the  early  learner  in  finding  the  meaning  or  relishing 
the  beauty.  There  is  an  expression  in  the  Phsedo  of 
Plato  which  the  beginner  is  very  apt  to  misconstrue, 
d\\d  pot,  TraXat,  Trpdj/JLara  waptyei  (E.  63),  through 
the  lightness  of  tone,  which  escapes  the  elaborate  state 
of  mind  with  which  we  must  acquire  the  Greek  lan- 
guage. The  same  may  be  said  of  the  latent  irony 
found  in  the  Dialogue  De  Oratoribus,  sometimes  attrib- 
uted to  Tacitus  (Sect.  40,  41). 

It  has  been  supposed  by  some  that  a  dramatic  writer 
in  painting  a  passion  obscures  his  direct  sentiment. 
It  is  not  so  when  it  is  his  intention  to  reveal  it.  It  is 
just  as  clear  under  this  form  as  any  other.  Can  any 
one  suppose  that,  when  Shakespeare  put  all  the  epi- 
curean ribaldry  that  a  London  tavern  could  afford 
into  the  mouth  of  Falstaff,  he  intended  it  as  his  own 
sentiments,  or  the  sentiments  of  a  moral  teacher  ?  or 
when  the  Friar  talks  to  Romeo  in  the  passion  and 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  145 

despair  of  his  pupil,  that  he  did  not  mean  it  as  the 
words  of  true  wisdom  ?  or  when  Mrs.  More,  in  her 
drama  of  "  Moses  in  the  Bulrushes,"  puts  these  words 
into  the  mouth  of  Miriam, — 

"  Know  this  ark  is  charmed 
With  incantations  Pharaoh  ne'er  employed, 
With  spells  that  impious  Egypt  never  knew ; 
With  invocations  to  the  living  God 
I  twisted  every  slender  reed  together, 
And  with  a  prayer  did  every  osier  weave,"  — 

she  is  not  teaching  her  own  piety  in  the  personage 
she  has  formed  ?  A  good  character  generally  utters 
good  sentiments  ;  and  even  a  bad  character  may  be 
the  vehicle  of  direct  instruction,  as  in  the  following 
speech  of  the  King  in  Hamlet:  — 

"  'T  is  sweet  and  commendable  in  your  nature,  Hamlet, 
To  give  these  mourning  duties  to  your  father ; 
But  you  must  know,  your  father  lost  a  father ; 
That  father  lost,  lost  his  ;  and  the  survivor  bound 
In  filial  obligation,  for  some  term, 
To  do  obsequious  sorrow  ;  but  to  persever 
In  obstinate  condolement  is  a  course 
Of  impious  stubbornness  ;  'tis  unmanly  grief; 
It  shows  a  will  most  incorrect  to  heaven,"  &c. 

Hamlet,  Act  I.  Scene  2. 

PARTICULAR  APPLICATION  OF  THE  DRAMATIC  PRIN- 
CIPLE OF  INTERPRETATION. 

OUR  first  business  is  to  state  to  ourselves  the  diffi- 
culties.     First,  we   must   remember   it    is   the   infant 


146  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

and  primitive  drama,  in  its  Jewish  conception,  undevel- 
oped,—  where  the  object  is  not  delight,  but  instruction. 
No  regular  plot,  no  fixed  characters ;  but  the  object  is 
cursory  illustration.  Secondly,  it  is  important  to  know 
who  are  the  speakers ;  for,  in  consequence  of  the  vi- 
vacity of  the  early  mind,  the  transitions  are  very  quick 
and  sudden,  and  the  speaker's  name  is  not  always 
announced.  Thirdly,  a  great  difficulty  is  to  fill  up  a 
natural  ellipsis  (natural  to  that  age),  and  this,  indeed,  is 
one  chief  difficulty  in  all  Hebrew  poetry.  And,  lastly, 
as  in  all  the  drama,  to  see  through  the  veil  of  character, 
to  reach  the  didactic  intentions  of  the  author ;  and  this, 
I  must  contend,  is  not  more  difficult  in  the  dramatic 
than  in  any  other  mode  of  instruction.  The  great  rule 
of  distinguishing  the  mere  painting  of  character  from 
the  direct  lesson  is  —  THE  INTENTION  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

But  let  us  specify.  Take  the  Book  of  Job  as  an 
example.  Let  us  ask  the  question,  Where  are  the 
teachings  of  inspiration  found  ?  We  dismiss  the  ques- 
tion of  the  antiquity  of  this  book,  as,  for  our  purpose, 
a  point  of  no  importance.  It  is  obvious  that  much 
that  is  said  by  the  speakers  cannot  be  true  as  maxims 
of  direct  instruction  ;  for  God  himself  says,  "  They  have 
not  spoken  of  me  the  thing  that  is  right,  as  my  ser- 
vant Job  hath."  They  are  suspicious,  jealous ;  they 
accuse  him  of  false  sentiments,  and  pervert  right  sen- 
timents by  a  false  application  to  him ;  and  even  Job 
himself  can  scarcely  be  defended  in  some  of  his  com- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  147 

plaints :  "  Let  the  day  perish  wherein  I  was  born,  and 
the  night  in  which  it  was  said,  There  is  a  man-child 
conceived.  Let  that  day  be  darkness  ;  let  not  God  re- 
gard it  from  above,  neither  let  the  light  shine  upon  it." 
These  feelings  are  not  to  be  approved, — these  senti- 
ments are  not  to  be  copied.  But  surely  the  intention 
of  the  author  is  obvious.  In  the  case  of  Job's  jealous 
friends,  we  are  taught  that  men  should  not  judge  of 
established  piety  by  superficial  appearances,  and  that 
true  maxims  become  dangerous  by  being  falsely  applied. 
We  may  often  utter  the  truth  on  a  wrong  occasion ; 
our  motives  may  be  defective,  when  our  tongues  are 
wise ;  and  as  to  Job  himself,  we  may  see  how  real  piety 
may  be  clouded  by  impatience ;  how  a  good  man  may 
be  an  imperfect  man  ;  how  deep  affliction  tries  the  soul 
and  produces  indulgence  from  God ;  and  how,  more 
than  all,  an  undeveloped  faith  (for  such  was  Job's 
condition,  —  he  did  not  live  under  the  last  revelations 
of  immortality)  plunges  the  soul  into  perplexity,  and 
sharpens  the  pang  which  it  cannot  remove.  In  Job's 
perplexity  we  see  what  he  wanted  by  what  he  felt.  He 
wanted  the  Gospel,  —  its  certainty,  its  support,  its  tri- 
umph, its  consolation.  Compare  his  speech  with  that 
of  Paul :  "  We  rejoice  in  the  hope  of  the  glory  of 
God ;  and  not  only  so,  we  glory  in  tribulations  also  ; 
knowing  that  tribulation  worketh  patience,  and  patience 
experience,  and  experience  hope,  and  hope  maketh  not 
ashamed.1" 


148  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

"WJien  the  design  is  double,  that  is,  when  a  charac- 
ter is  pictured,  and  in  picturing  it  a  true  sentiment 
is  uttered,  the  design  of  the  author  is  equally  clear. 
Take  the  speech  of  Eliphaz  the  Temanite,  in  the  fourth 
chapter:  "  Now  a  thing  was  secretly  brought  me,  and 
mine  ear  received  a  little  thereof.  In  thoughts  from 
the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on 
men,  fear  came  upon  me,  and  trembling,  which  made 
all  my  bones  to  shake.  Then  a  spirit  passed  before  my 
face  ;  the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  up.  It  stood  still, 
but  I  could  not  discern  the  form  thereof;  an  image 
was  before  mine  eyes ;  there  was  silence,  and  I  heard 
a  voice,  saying,  Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just  than 
God  ?  shall  a  man  he  more  pure  than  his  Maker  ? 
Behold  he  put  no  trust  in  his  servants,  and  his  angels 
he  charged  with  folly.  How  much  less  in  them  that 
dwell  in  houses  of  clay,  whose  foundation  is  in  the 
dust,  which  are  crushed  before  the  moth  ? "  Who 
does  not  see  the  correctness  of  these  sentiments,  and 
the  falseness  of  the  application  ?  The  character  of  the 
speaker  is  most  beautifully  seen  in  both  these  circum- 
stances. He  was  too  good  a  man  to  utter  a  falsehood ; 
he  was  too  wise  a  man  to  reason  from  false  premises ; 
and  he  was  too  much  blinded  by  suspicion  and  preju- 
dice to  make  a  right  application.  The  didactic  truth 
of  the  sentiment  does  not  destroy  the  painting  of  char- 
acter, but  rather  heightens  it. 

Let  us  adduce  one  example  more,  —  the  famous  pas- 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  149 

sage,  Job  xix.  25,  26  :  "  For  I  know  that  my  Redeemer 
liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon 
the  earth ;  and  though,  after  my  skin,  worms  shall  de- 
stroy this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God :  whom 
I  shall  see  for  myself,  and  mine  eyes  shall  behold,  and 
not  another,  though  my  reins  be  consumed  within  me." 
Dr.  Noyes  translates  it  thus :  "  Yet  I  know  that  my 
Vindicator  liveth,  and  will  stand  up  at  length  on 
the  earth ;  and  though  with  my  skin  this  body  be 
wasted  away,  yet  in  my  flesh  I  shall  see  God.  Yea, 
I  shall  see  him  my  friend  ;  my  eyes  shall  behold  him 
no  longer  an  adversary,  for  this  my  soul  panteth 
within  me."  DathS  has  it  thus :  "  Enim  vero  novi 
vindicem  meum  vivere,  tandemque  pulverem  oppugna- 
turum  esse.  Deponam  cutem  meam,  quam  ista  arro- 
dunt.  Atque  e  carne  mea  Deum  videbo.  Hunc  ego 
mihi  videbo.  Hunc  ego  mihi  videbo  propitium,  oculi 
mei  eum  videbunt,  non  amplius  inimicum.  Vehemen- 
ter  desidero  hanc  causae  meae  decisionem."  —  "  I  know 
that  my  Vindicator  liveth,  and  that  at  length  he  will 
defend  my  dust ;  I  shall  lay  aside  my  skin,  which  these 
sores  and  worms  deform ;  and  in  my  flesh  I  shall  see 
my  God.  I  shall  see  him  for  myself ;  I  shall  see  him 
propitious  to  me.  My  eyes  shall  see  him,  no  more 
an  enemy.  This  is  the  decision  of  my  cause  which  I 
desire." 

Take  either  of  these  translations,  and  the  best  way 
of  arriving   at   the   true   meaning  is,  to   interpret   it 


150  "THE  MANUDUCTION. 

on  the  dramatic  principle.  Indeed,  there  is  no  other 
rational.  Job,  in  his  sorrow  and  perplexity,  looks 
round  for  some  hope.  He  is  a  good  man  ;  he  has  a 
heart-born  faith,  that  rests  upon  a  most  imperfect  rev- 
elation. He  has  a  disposition  to  trust,  with  an  insight 
into  the  promises.  In  his  agony,  from  the  exigencies 
of  his  case,  and  from  his  infantine  piety,  he  grasps 
the  idea  of  the  future  state  and  its  rectifications.  "I 
know  that  my  Redeemer  "  (or  Vindicator,  translate  it 
as  you  will)  "  liveth,"  &c.  Just  as  Addison  makes 
Cato  say: 

" ' T  is  Heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 
And  intimates  Eternity  to  man/' 

How  clear  and  how  forcible  the  meaning !  How  suit- 
able to  the  speaker  and  the  place  !  It  is  one  of  those 
kinds  of  prophecy,  when,  not  the  individual,  but  hu- 
man nature  itself,  speaks  from  the  force  of  its  sorrows 
and  the  pressure  of  its  wants,  —  when  the  obliquity  of 
the  channel  gives  power  and  pureness  to  the  stream  it 
conveys. 

I  must  contend  that  there  is  no  obscurity  in  the  dra- 
matic mode  of  teaching  when  one  has  once  grasped  the 
principle.  It  is  instinctively  understood  in  the  early 
ages  of  society,  and  in  its  last  state  of  improvement; 
it  is  only  in  the  transition  state,  from  accidental  causes, 
it  becomes  obscure.  Perhaps  there  never  was  a  people 
less  prepared  to  apply  it  than  our  Puritan  fathers. 
They  had  departed  from  the  early  state ;  they  ap- 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  151 

preached  the  Bible  with  an  awful  veneration ;  they 
postulated  for  it  a  didactic  perfection,  and  their  very 
respect  for  its  substance  sometimes  led  them  not  to 
regard  its  dress.  They  had  little  taste  for  any  poetry, 
and  still  less  for  the  dramatic ;  indeed,  all  the  com- 
mentators of  the  older  schools,  Grotius  himself,  did 
not  fully  grasp  this  principle.  Hence  it  now  appears 
at  first  view  a  critical  refinement,  when  it  is  only  a 
return  to  the  simplicity  of  nature. 

It  has  been  better  understood  in  all  other  litera- 
ture. Mr.  Addison,  with  his  usual  taste,  points  out 
one  of  its  rules.  Speaking  of  a  tragedy  of  Euripides, 
from  the  performance  of  which  Socrates  is  said  to  have 
retired  to  show  his  disapprobation  of  a  particular  pas- 
sage, he  says :  "  This  was  no  sooner  spoken  but  Soc- 
rates rose  from  his  seat,  and,  without  any  regard  to  his 
affection  for  his  friend,  or  to  the  success  of  the  play, 
showed  himself  displeased  at  what  was  said,  and  walked 
out  of  the  assembly.  I  question  not  but  the  reader 
will  be  curious  to  know  what  the  line  was  that  gave 
this  divine  heathen  so  much  offence.  If  my  memory 
fails  me  not,  it  was  in  the  part  of  Hippolytus,  who, 
when  he  is  pressed  by  an  oath,  which  he  had  taken,  to 
keep  silence,  returned  for  answer,  that  he  had  taken 
the  oath  with  his  tongue,  but  riot  with  his  heart.  Had 
a  person  of  a  vicious  character  made  such  a  speech, 
it  might  have  been  allowed  as  a  proper  representation 
of  the  baseness  of  his  thoughts ;  but  such  an  expression 


152  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

out  of  the  mouth  of  the  virtuous  Hippolytus  was  giv- 
ing a  sanction  to  falsehood,  and  establishing  perjury  by 
a  maxim."  (Tatler,  No.  122.)  Let  us  add,  that  had 
the  writer  been  painting  the  frailty  of  a  good  man,  it 
would  have  been  no  proof  that  he  was  sanctioning  a 
bad  sentiment. 

I  strongly  suspected,  when  reading  this  account  of 
Socrates,  that  the  poet  was  right,  and  the  philosopher 
was  wrong.  I  have  since  examined  the  play,  and  I 
find  my  suspicions  verified.  Hippolytus  says  nothing 
inconsistent  with  his  virtuous  character.  The  case  was 
this.  Pha3dra  was  his  mother-in-law,  married  to  his 
father,  Theseus.  She  falls  in  love  with  her  step-son, 
not  from  any  unchaste  desire  in  herself,  but  through 
the  anger  of  Yenus.  PhaBdra  is  wretched  and  mis- 
erable, and  the  nurse,  pitying  her  case,  goes  to  Hip- 
polytus and  tells  him  her  passion.  Before  she  tells 
him,  however,  we  are  led  to  infer  that  the  nurse  had 
exacted  a  promise  from  Hippolytus  that  he  would  not 
tell  his  father  the  terrible  secret, — his  mother-in-law's 
passion  for  him.  But  when  Hippolytus  comes  to  hear 
the  enormous  crime,  he  hesitates  about  keeping  his 
promise,  and  he  then  utters  the  sentiment  which  moved 
the  indignation  of  Socrates :  "I  swore  with  my  tongue  ; 
but  my  mind  is  not  held  to  the  oath;"  —  which  only 
means  this:  I  did  not  know  the  nature  of  the  oath 
I  took ;  I  feel  as  if,  under  such  horrible  circumstances, 
it  is  my  duty  to  break  the  promise.  If  Herod,  when 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  153 

he  made  his  promise  to  Herodias,  had  reasoned  as  Hip- 
poly  tus  did,  he  would  have  been  a  better  man.  At 
any  rate,  the  sentiment  is  perfectly  natural  in  his  con- 
dition, and  as  he  did  not  tell  his  father,  it  is  probable 
he  was  perplexed  and  delayed  until  he  was  anticipated 
in  the  letter  which  was  found  in  his  mother's  hand 
after  she  hung  herself.  However,  if  the  wise  Socrates 
was  deceived  in  the  dramatic  lesson,  we  should  be  on 
our  guard,  and  look  through  the  poetic  dress  to  the  les- 
son taught.  Euripides  was  right,  though  so  competent 
an  auditor  misunderstood  him* 

Perhaps  there  is  no  writer  more  hard  to  turn  into 
a  direct  teacher  than  Shakespeare.  He  appears  by 
nature  to  have  been  very  little  of  a  moralist;  he  be- 
longed to  no  sect  in  religion,  and  he  had  that  indif- 
ference to  opinion  which  was  engendered  alike  by  his 
Protean  genius  and  his  Epicurean  heart.  He  was  in- 
tent on  his  pictures ;  and  if  he  could  only  please,  he 
was  not  careful  to  instruct.  "  He  seems  to  write," 
says  Dr.  Johnson,  "without  a  moral  purpose."  Yet  it 
is  not  difficult  in  this  Proteus  of  the  moral  school  to 
see  his  sentiment  through  his  coloring.  His  first  ob- 
ject is,  no  doubt,  to  put  suitable  sentiments  into  the 
mouths  of  his  characters ;  but  that  does  not  hide,  it 
rather  reveals,  his  secondary  lesson  ;  that  is,  he  is 
always  conscious  of  the  moral  truth  his  audience  will 
recognize.  And  the  one  purpose  never  disturbs  'the 
other.  Thus  when  lago  says  :  — 
7* 


154  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

"  Good  name  in  man  and  woman,  dear  my  lord, 
Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls ; 
Who  steals  my  purse  steals  trash  ;  't  is  something,  nothing ; 
'T  was  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands ; 
But  he  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name 
Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 
And  make.s  me  poor  indeed." 

Now  it  is  evident  that  lago  is  a  bad  character ;  there 
is  no  truth  in  him;  and  his  object  in  this  scene 
is  not  to  utter  moral  sentiments,  but  to  poison  the 
mind  of  Othello  with  jealousy ;  and  yet  no  one  can 
doubt  that  he  here  means  to  utter  a  true  maxim  of 
morality  ;  and  the  reason  is,  this  exactly  suits  his  pur- 
pose. A  true  maxim,  in  this  place,  covers  his  design, 
increases  his  insinuations,  and  makes  the  false  impres- 
sion more  fatal  by  the  very  truth  it  presents.  On  the 
contrary,  when  Emilia,  in  the  same  play,  says  of  hus- 
bands generally, — 

"  They  are  all  but  stomachs  and  we  all  but  food  j 
They  eat  us  hungerly,  and  when  they  are  full 
They  belch  us;"  — 

or  when  Mrs.  Page  says,  in  the  Merry  Wives  of  Wind- 
sor, after  receiving  Falstaif 's  letter,  "  Well,  I  will  find 
you  twenty  lascivious  turtles  ere  one  chaste  man ; "  — 
or  when  Ariadne  says,  in  Catullus,  after  Theseus  had 
forsaken  her, — 

"  Jam,  jam  nulla  viro  juranti  femina  credat 
Qui,  dum  aliquid  cupiens  animus  praegestit  apisci, 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  155 

Nil  metuunt  jurare,  nihil  promittere  parcunt ; 
Sed  simul  ac  cupidae  mentis  satiata  libido  est, 
Dicta  nihil  metuere,  nihil  perjuria  curant ; "  — 

"  Let  not  a  woman  trust  the  vows  of  men  ; 
They  promise  while  they  seek  our  love,  but  when 
Their  purpose  is  obtained,  we  sadly  find 
Their  solemn  vows  are  scattered  to  the  wind ;  " — 

every  one  sees  that  this  is  not  the  sentiment  of  the 
poet.  It  is  the  natural  exaggeration  of  the  moment. 
The  falsehood  of  the  sentiment  is  essential  to  the  truth 
of  the  feeling.  In  a  word,  just  as  certainly  as  we  pen- 
etrate the  design  of  the  poet,  just  so  clear  we  see  his 
secondary  purpose.  In  the  School  for  Scandal,  Joseph 
Surface  is  intended  to  be  a  consummate  hypocrite ; 
he  never  for  a  moment  ceases  to  wear  his  mask ;  and 
yet  all  the  maxims  he  utters  —  and  he  is  full  of  max- 
ims—  are  important  and  true.  How  do  we  know  this  ? 
We  see  the  design  of  the  author ;  it  suits  his  purpose 
to  put  these  fine  sentiments  into  the  mouth  of  Joseph 
Surface,  in  order  to  deceive  Sir  Peter  Teazle,  who  is 
constantly  admiring  him.  It  is  impossible  to  see  the 
design  of  the  writer,  and  not  see  at  once  the  black- 
ness of  his  character  and  the  beauty  of  his  maxims. 

We  might  extend  this  rule  over  all  the  dramatic 
writings  of  ancient  and  modern  authors.  In  the  an- 
cient tragedies,  there  is  the  Chorus,  expressly  contrived 
to  give  the  moral  sentiment ;  and  whenever  any  obscu- 
rity occurs,  it  is  because  the  reader  is  as  much  per- 


156  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

plexed  as  to  the  truth  of  the  picture  as  he  is  in  the 
propriety  of  the  sentiment. 

The  design  of  the  chorus  is  thus  described  by  Hor- 
ace :  "  Let  the  chorus  defend  the  actor,  and  speak  the 
voice  of  humanity.  Let  it  chant  nothing  between  the 
acts,  which  does  not  conduce  to  the  main  design.  Let 
it  approve  the  virtuous  and  smile  on  the  friendly ;  let 
it  rebuke  the  angry  and  approve  the  conscientious. 
Let  it  applaud  the  frugal  table,  salutary  justice,  laws, 
and  peace  with  her  open  gates.  Let  it  not  reveal 
the  plot ;  and  let  it  pray  and  beseech  the  celestial 
powers  that  prosperity  may  depart  from  the  proud  and 
return  to  the  depressed."  It  is  impossible  to  preserve 
the  meaning  of  the  first  sentiment  —  Actons  partes 
chorus  qfficiumque  virile  defendat  —  by  a  mere  transla- 
tion. I  imagine  the  thought  to  be  this.  It  was  not 
uncommon  for  a  bad  character  in  the  old  tragedies  to 
utter  a  shocking  sentiment,  which  was  yet  perfectly 
characteristic  ;  as  when  the  tyrant  of  old  said,  "  I  swore 
with  my  tongue  and  not  my  mind,"  &c.  The  people 
expressed  their  disapprobation ;  for  it  is  a  mistake 
which  a  careless  listener  is  tempted  to  make.  Even  the 
polished  Athenians,  brought  up  in  theatres,  were  not 
always  mercurial  enough  to  preserve  themselves  from 
such  an  illusion.  Now  in  such  cases,  says  Horace, 
let  the  chorus  defend  (Actoris  partes)  the  part  of  the 
actor,  by  showing  in  his  immorality  the  author's  de- 
sign. We  have  in  the  Bible  implicitly  such  a  chorus ; 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  157 

for  very  often,  in  the  parallelism  or  in  the  course  of 
the  dialogue,  we  have  the  reply  or  the  rebuke.  We 
are  often  tempted  to  wonder,  and  the  wonder  ends  in 
making  a  new  and  beautiful  impression.  Take  the 
book  of  Ecclesiastes  as  an  example.  What  strange 
sentiments  in  single  paragraphs,  and  yet  how  clear  the 
whole  design ! 

So  true  is  it  that  the  moral  sentiment  shines  through 
the  painting  of  character,  and  is  generally  seen  when 
the  painting  is  understood  (that  is,  they  go  together), 
that  in  the  Greek  fragments  preserved  by  Cumberland, 
though  the  drama  itself  is  lost,  and  we  are  under  the 
disadvantage  of  not  knowing  the  plot,  yet,  I  think,  I 
can  see  the  direct  sentiment.  Who  does  not  recognize 
the  utterance  of  a  brazen-faced  female  in  the  follow- 
ing lines  ? 

"  No  animal  in  nature  can  compare 
In  impudence  with  woman  ;  I  myself 
Am  one,  and  from  my  own  experience  speak." 

Here  is  a  monstrous  hyperbole,  intended,  no  doubt, 
to  paint  an  unusual  character.  It  was  probably  one 
of  those  clap-traps  so  frequent  in  the  ancient  and  mod- 
ern drama,  and  no  doubt  it  answered  its  purpose ;  it 
brought  down  the  house.  On  the  contrary,  the  fol- 
lowing sentiment  the  author  meant  for  an  unvarying 
and  eternal  truth,  and  it  is  the  same  whether  found 
in  a  sermon  or  a  play :  — 


158  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

"  Hence,  vile  adulterer  !  I  scorn  to  gain 
Pleasures  extorted  from  another's  pain." 

So  true  is  it  that  the  didactic  always  appears,  not  only 
in  strong  irony,  strong1  hyperbole,  and  strong  paint- 
ing, but  even  middle  sentiments  are  seen,  when  the 
abstract  truth  is  more  shaded.  As  in  the  following :  — 

"  If  love  be  folly,  as  the  schools  would  prove, 
The  man  must  lose  his  wits  who  falls  in  love ; 
Deny  him  love,  you  doom  the  wretch  to  death, 
And  then  it  follows  he  must  lose  his  breath. 
Good  sooth  !  there  is  a  young  and  dainty  maid 
I  dearly  love,  a  minstrel  she  by  trade ; 
What  then  ?    Must  I  defer  to  pedant  rule, 
And  own  that  love  transforms  me  to  a  fool  ? 
Not  I,  so  help  me  !     By  the  gods  I  swear, 
The  nymph  I  love  is  fairest  of  the  fair. 
Must  I  not  love  her  then  ?    Let  the  dull  sot 
Who  made  the  law  obey  it,  —  I  will  not." 

No  doubt  the  author  here  had  the  natural  excess 
of  love  in  his  mind,  and  yet  he  does  not  totally  dis- 
approve ;  he  has  only  a  half-smile  of  censure  on  his 
brow  at  a  sentiment  which  he  regards  as  half  wrong. 
In  a  word,  I  would  be  willing  to  pledge  myself  to  go 
through  the  books  of  Job,  Ecclesiastes,  and  Solomon's 
Song,  —  the  most  dramatic  books  in  the  Bible, — and 

tO  say,  I  AM  AS  ABLE  TO  PICK  OUT  THE  SENTIMENT  AS  I 
AM  TO  UNDERSTAND  THE  CHARACTER.  They  both  shine 

with  an  interlocked  and  common  light. 

As  in  painting,  so  in  dramatic  poetry,  there  are  some 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  159 

things  difficult,  almost  impossible,  to  be  done.  Thus, 
in  painting,  you  are  confined  to  the  instant ;  motion 
and  succession  must  be  dispensed  with ;  you  cannot 
paint  a  depression  in  a  landscape  lower  than  the  front 
ground  of  your  picture  ;  it  is  very  hard  to  distinguish 
between  the  rising  and  setting  sun  ;  and  he  that  selects 
the  rainbow  as  his  pattern  must  be  content  to  follow 
at  an  awful  distance  the  perfection  of  nature.  In 
dramatic  writing,  one  of  the  standing  difficulties  is,  to 
paint  a  good  character.  Virtue  is  seen  in  action,  not 
in  profession;  and  the  difficulty  is,  to  make  a  perfect 
man  manifest  himself,  without  being  a  man  of  buck- 
ram,—  not  sounding  a  trumpet  in  his  own  praise.  In. 
this  department  the  best  writers  have  often  failed.  I 
must  confess,  I  have  never  been  much  charmed  with 
Xenophon's  Cyrus ;  I  have  not  always  gone  along  with 
Plato's  Socrates ;  I  have  never  wept,  as  Cicero  did,  at 
the  pathos  of  the  Phaedo  ;  Socrates  and  Cato  are  too 
stern  for  my  pity.  The  Edinburgh  Review  calls  Sir 
Charles  Grandison  the  prince  of  coxcombs ;  and  Black- 
wood's  Magazine  wishes  that  Miss  Hannah  More's  char- 
acters had  a  little  sin  in  them,  to  set  human  nature 
on  its  legs  again.  This  lady  has  often  been  ridiculed 
for  her  precise  and  buckram  characters.  The  critics 
have  been  very  unjust  to  her.  "  In  every  work,  regard 
the  writer's  end."  She  has  always  an  object  in  view, 
precisely  the  reverse  of  that  of  Shakespeare.  Shake- 
speare is  always  giving  you  specimens  of  human  na- 


160  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

ture ;  he  paints  man  as  he  is ;  but  Miss  More  is  always 
giving  you  patterns  and  examples ;  and  the  only  rea- 
son why  she  seems  to  be  ridiculous  is,  the  intrinsic 
difficulty  of  painting  a  good  character,  and  because  we 
are  always  trying  her  by  rules  she  did  not  adopt  and 
could  not  be  expected  to  follow.  Her  characters  are 
stiff,  no  doubt,  and  not  very  natural ;  but  let  us  re- 
member virtue  is  not  natural  to  man  ;  it  is  a  triumph 
over  his  nature. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  Shakespeare  has 
no  heroes ;  he  never  paints  the  self-sacrificing  martyr 
or  the  disinterested  man ;  he  always  dashes  his  best 
personages  with  mingled  imperfections.  He  has  none 
of  Plutarch's  patriots,  nor  the  Bollandists'  saints  ;  and 
one  reason  is,  perhaps,  he  instinctively  saw  that  such 
characters  were  too  perfect  for  the  interest  he  wished 
to  excite.  When  he  does  approach  this  ground  his 
success  is  far  from  being  complete.  Isabella,  in  Meas- 
ure for  Measure,  has  a  somewhat  stiff  religion ;  she  is 
what  Mr.  Addison  would  call  outrageously  virtuous. 
Cordelia,  in  King  Lear,  is  ostentatious  of  her  own  pa- 
rental affection,  and  not  at  all  conciliatory  towards  her 
sisters ;  at  least  we  may  say  such  talk  in  real  life 
would  not  be  regarded  as  laying  the  ground  of  confi- 
dence. Other  writers  have  not  been  able  to  conquer 
the  same  difficulty.  Thus  Sallust,  in  the  speech  which 
he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Cato,  in  the  Roman  Sen- 
ate, at  the  time  of  Catiline's  conspiracy,  — "  that  as  he 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  161 

never  was  indulgent  to  any  one  fault  in  himself,  he 
could  not  excuse  those  of  others," — is  exceedingly  un- 
fortunate ;  and  Bishop  Butler  says :  "  This  speech  with 
decency  could  scarce  come  out  of  the  mouth  of  any 
human  creature.'  But  no  doubt  Sallust  mistook  what 
he  would  say  of  Cato  for  what  Cato  might  say  of  him- 
self. There  is  a  very  remarkable  example  of  this  utter 
frustration  of  a  writer's  purpose  in  Cornelia's  address 
to  Paulus,  in  the  Eleventh  Elegy  of  Propertius,  Lib. 
IY.  It  is  the  solemn  address  of  the  departed  spirit  of 
a  wife  to  her  husband,  and  therefore  is  intended  as  a 
most  perfect  expression  of  her  virtue,  and  yet  it  is  one 
continued  piece  of  arrogance  and  boasting.  It  con- 
cludes with  these  lines  :  — 

"  Moribus  et  coelum  patuit ;  sim  digna  merendo 
Cujus  honeratis  ossa  vehantur  avis." 

"  Heaven  opens  to  the  good ;  let  me  be  found 
Worthy  of  names  like  ours  so  much  renowned/' 

"  Nor  did  time  change  me ;  pure  was  all  from  blame 
Between  the  nuptial  torch  and  funeral  flame. 
Me  nature  governed  through  ingenuous  blood, 
Nor  was  it  fear  or  law  that  made  .me  good." 

The  Sliade  of  Cornelia  to  Paulus,  Frothinghani's  Translation. 

She  says  of  her  life,  "  Sine  crimine  tota  vita  est." 
One  is  reminded  here  of  Job's  words :  "  If  I  justify 
myself,  my  own  mouth  shall  condemn  me ;  if  I  say  I 
am  perfect,  it  shall  also  prove  me  perverse."  (Job 
ix.  20.) 

E 


162  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

It  is  a  proof,  I  think,  of  the  superior  wisdom  of  the 
Bible,  that  this  difficulty  is  conquered  in  the  speeches 
of  that  pattern  of  perfection,  Jesus  Christ.  "JVe  have 
his  discourses  ;  and  think  for  a  moment  what  a  char- 
acter he  had  to  sustain!  not  abstract  perfection,  but 
perfection  under  his  claims,  —  perfection  as  Redeemer 
of  a  lost  world.  He  was  always  to  make  the  future 
state  a  positive  idea,  and  sustain  the  personage  he  was 
sent  to  assume.  And  yet  how  completely  has  he  accom- 
plished his  object !  He  never  boasts  ;  he  is  never  arro- 
gant ;  he  is  always  easy.  He  conquers  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  difficulties  that  ever  perplexed  the  genius 
of  man.  Somebody  drew  the  character,  and  surely  that 
character  could  not  be  a  fiction. 

Some  objections  have  indeed  been  made  by  learned 
critics  against  the  abuse  of  this  principle.  Thus  Mi- 
chaelis  observes  in  one  of  his  notes  on  Lowth's  Lec- 
tures :  "It  is  certain  that  many  of  the  Psalms  are 
dramatic,  which  some  commentators  observing,  delight- 
ed with  their  own  discoveries,  whenever  they  meet  with 
a  passage  more  difficult  than  usual,  or  are  able  to 
catch  any  new  and  visionary  explanation,  more  agree- 
able to  their  theological  notions,  they  have  eagerly 
resorted  to  the  change  of  the  persons  or  characters, 
though  no  such  change  existed.  Such  are  those  com- 
mentators who  have  fancied,  in  accommodation  to  the 
quotation  of  Paul  (Hebrews  i.  10),  the  spirit  and 
purpose  of  which  they  did  not  understand,  that  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  163 

former  part  of  the  Hundred  and  Second  Psalm,  to 
the  twenty-fourth  verse,  —  "Take  me  not  away  in  the 
midst  of  my  age," — consisted  entirely  of  a  speech  of 
Christ,  and  that  the  remainder  — "  As  for  thy  years, 
they  endure  throughout  all  generations,"  &c.  —  was  the 
reply  of  God  the  Father.  Whoever  indulges  himself 
in  this  mode  of  explication,  may  easily  find  out  any- 
tiling  he  pleases  in  the  Psalms,  and,  with  little  or  no 
philological  knowledge,  without  the  smallest  assistance 
from  criticism,  can  give  a  meaning  to  the  most  diffi- 
cult or  corrupt  texts  of  Scripture,  —  any  meaning  but 
the  right  one." 

But  surely  it  could  not  be  the  object  of  the  critic  to 
deny  or  depreciate  the  legitimate  application  of  this 
principle  to  the  interpretation  of  a  book  which  so  fre- 
quently uses  it.  For  not  to  insist  that  one  hardly  sees 
the  importance  of  the  specimen  of  alleged  abuse  he 
quotes,  we  may  ask  him,  whether  the  Bible  really 
adopts  this  mode  of  instruction  in  all  its  poetic  parts, 
and,  if  it  does,  whether  it  can  ba  understood  without 
a  recognition  of  the  fact.  For  my  part,  I  must  say  I 
could  form  no  meaning  of  the  Twentieth  Psalm,  with- 
out asking  who  the  speaker  is,  and  who  the  second  per- 
son spoken  to  is,  —  "The  Lord  hear  thee  in  the  day 
of  trouble,"  &c. ;  and  both  these  questions  must  be  an- 
swered ;  i.  e.  I  must  adopt  the  dramatic  principle  in 
interpreting  the  Psalm.  I  will  only  add,  I  know  no 
principle  of  exegesis  which  has  been  less  abused,  or 


164  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

is  less  liable  to  abuse.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  Pro- 
fessor is  singularly  unfortunate  when  he  insinuates  that 
it  has  been  obscure,  or  a  frequent  source  of  bad  inter- 
pretation. Where  are  the  proofs?  Whoever  is  con- 
scious of  the  existence  of  this  principle  in  the  Bible, 
and  understands  its  nature,  is  almost  sure  to  apply  it 
right. 

In  the  foregoing  remarks,  I  suppose  myself  to  have 
established  the  following  principles :  —  First,  that  the 
Bible  has  adopted  the  dramatic  element ;  secondly,  that 
it  is  Oriental,  fragmentary,  and  peculiar  in  its  char- 
acter ;  thirdly,  that  the  adoption  of  this  element  does 
not  darken,  but  rather  enforces,  the  light  of  revelation ; 
that  whenever  we  can  discover  the  picturing  of  the  char- 
acters, we  equally  discover  the  sentiment  or  doctrine 
they  teach ;  and,  finally,  that  the  key  to  this  sentiment 
is  the  intention  of  the  author,  which  is  just  as  discov- 
erable in  this  mode  of  writing  as  any  other,  when  our 
attention  is  drawn  to  the  fact,  and  we  become  accus- 
tomed to  see  it  as  it  is  applied  to  the  solemnities  of 
revelation.  This  discussion  will  not  be  without  its  use, 
if  it  only  leads  the  expounders  of  Scripture,  whenever 
they  take  a  text  from  the  Book  of  Job,  the  Psalms, 
Ecclesiastes,  and  many  parts  of  the  prophets,  to  have 
this  principle  constantly  before  them.  Sure  I  am,  that 
without  it  the  best  commentators  have  made  the  most 
dangerous  mistakes. 

In  conclusion,  when  we  remember  that  the  dramatic 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  165 

form  in  Scripture  was  expressly  adopted  to  make  the 
truth  more  clear  and  impressive,  —  that  it  was  prompt- 
ed by  simple  nature,  and  was  eminently  suited  to  an 
early  age ;  when  we  reflect  that  all  which  could  make 
it  obscure  in  Shakespeare  would  make  it  clear  in  the 
Bible,  the  purposes  in  each  being  so  different ;  and, 
finally,  that  it  is  not  peculiarly  obscure  in  Shake- 
speare,—  we  may  safely  conclude  that  we  need  only  to 
fall  back  on  the  simplicity  of  antiquity,  and  what  was 
suited  to  instruct  them  will  be  found  to  instruct  us. 
We  shall  find  the  fruit  among  the  flowers.  The  imagi- 
nation was  given  us  by  God.  It  is  not  a  vain  function  ; 
it  is  as  sacred  and  as  useful  as  reason  itself,  and  the 
Bible  is  the  only  book  that  always  puts  it  to  its  right 
use.  Here,  in  the  sacred  page,  it  turns  our  passions 
from  their  dangerous  strength  to  the  path  of  pious 
instruction.  It  approximates  God ;  it  paints  truth  ;  it 
brings  eternal  objects  near ;  it  shows  us  a  dying  Sav- 
iour on  the  cross ;  and  it  helps  us  to  realize  the  scene 
"  when  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  a  great  noise, 
and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  a  fervent  heat ; " 
we  see  the  burning  world  ;  the  Judge  enthroned ;  the 
final  sentence,  and  the  solemn  reward.  We  have  a 
power  given  us  by  which  the  objects  of  faith  are  almost 
turned  to  sight.  It  works  a  perpetual  miracle.  While 
a  polluted  mind  paints  voluptuous  scenes,  bowers  of 
love  and  streams  of  pleasure,  revelation  turns  this 
dangerous  faculty  into  an  instrument  of  salvation.  It 


166  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

is  certainly  an  instrument  of  instruction.  It  assists 
our  conceptions  ;  it  wakes  our  attention ;  it  impresses 
our  hearts.  Let  us  study  its  laws,  and  we  shall  find 
we  never  knew  its  value  until  we  found  its  skilful  use 
in  the  pages  of  God. 


THE    USE    OF    THE    IMAGINATION. 

The  Bible  teaches  the  right  use  of  the  imagination. 
Bishop  Butler,  who  was  a  severe  reasoner,  speaks  de- 
preciatingly of  the  imagination.  "  However,"  says  he, 
"  as  one  cannot  but  be  greatly  sensible  how  difficult 
it  is  to  silence  the  imagination  enough  to  make  the 
voice  of  reason  distinctly  heard  in  this  case  ;  as  we  are 
accustomed  from  our  youth  up  to  indulge  that  forward 
delusive  faculty,  ever  obtruding  beyond  its  sphere,  of 
some  assistance,  indeed,  to  apprehension,  but  the  author 
of  all  error,"  &c.  (Analogy,  Chap.  I.  Part  I.)  He 
hardly  seems  to  be  aware  how  much  he  was  indebted  to 
the  faculty  he  decries.  His  imagination  was  all  but 
miraculous.  What  I  mean  to  say  is,  that,  in  commu- 
nicating thoughts  where  an  illustration  seemed  almost 
impossible,  he  is  never  wanting,  but  brings  the  most  re- 
mote similitudes  together  ;  and  thus  makes  his  severe 
imagination  an  handmaid  to  his  severe  reason.  To  be 
sure,  it  is  not  the  imagination  of  Milton.  See  an  in- 
stance (Analogy,  Part  I.  Chap.  III.  Sect.  3).  Presi- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  167 

dent  Edwards  had  a  similar  power.  An  imagination 
that  seldom  beautified,  but  always  stood  ready  to  illus- 
trate, and  delighted  in  conquering  difficulties.  I  hardly 
know  of  a  more  startling  instance,  in  which  an  insu- 
perable difficulty  seems  to  be  overcome,  than  the  sup- 
position in  God's  Last  End  in  Creation,  Chap.  I.  Sect. 
1,  p.  15,  where  he  introduces  a  second  God  as  an 
arbiter  to  judge  between  the  first  God  and  his  crea- 
tures, and  then  shows  the  necessity  of  such  an  arbiter 
is  superseded  by  the  perfections  of  God  himself.  Mr. 
Addison  has  a  surprising  example  in  the  Spectator, 
No.  575,  where  he  finds  an  intermediate  thought  to 
illustrate  the  duration  of  eternity,  —  the  globe  of  sand 
as  big  as  our  earth,  and  one  grain  abstracted  every 
thousand  years.  The  Hebrew  Scriptures  can  hardly 
be  said  to  afford  such  intricate  examples,  and  yet  it  is 
remarkable,  the  difference  between  the  sacred  use  of 
the  imagination  and  its  use  in  all  the  heathen  writers. 
It  is  remarkable  of  the  Bible  through  all  its  pages, 
that  it  turns  the  imagination  into  its  own  religious 
channel,  TO  ILLUSTRATE  SACRED  TRUTH.  To  our  taste, 
it  may  sometimes  seem  to  be  negligent,  and  not  always 
use  the  most  delicate  coloring.  It  was  written  in  times 
of  great  simplicity,  but  it  has  always  one  object  in  view. 
A  fertile  imagination  may  be  said  to  work  a  natural 
miracle,  —  it  calls  new  powers  into  being  ;  it  embodies 
sentiment  and  animates  matter  ;  it  brings  the  unseen 
world  into  sight;  and  it  is  one  proof  of  the  wisdom 


168  THE  MANUDTJCTION. 

of  revelation,   that   so  dangerous   a  power    is   always 
employed  to  so  good  an  end. 

Objections  have  been  made  to  this  Song,  as  being 
too  luscious  in  its  imagery,  and  leaning  to  the  sensual 
side,  but  surely  by  critics  who  never  put  their  antique 
shoes  on.  The  fact  is,  considering  the  age  in  which 
it  was  written,  and  the  stand-point  of  the  author  and 
the  first  readers,  it  is  remarkably  delicate ;  so  much 
ardor  was  never  expressed  in  such  refined  language ; 
that  is,  primitive  refinement.  If  the  communion  of 
love  is  expressed,  it  is  always  by  the  purest  figures. 
No  doubt  the  author  then  was  thought  superfluously 
scrupulous.  Take  the  sixth  verse  of  the  fourth  chapter 
as  an  example :  "  Until  the  day  break  and  the  shadows 
flee  away  I  will  get  me  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh  and 
to  the  hill  of  frankincense."  So  the  first  verse  of  the 
eighth  chapter :  "  0  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother,  that 
sucked  the  breasts  of  my  mother !  when  I  should  find 
thee  without,  I  would  kiss  thee  ;  yea,  I  should  not  be 
despised."  Can  purer  love  be  pictured  than  a  sister's 
kiss  ?  Not  a  sensual  thought  is  hinted  at  through  the 
whole  poem.  Even  the  description  in  the  seventh  chap- 
ter, verses  2-4,  from  an  Oriental  point  of  view,  has 
nothing  in  the  least  degree  indelicate  in  its  articulate 
enumeration.  Consider  the  object.  With  the  Orien- 
tals, fulness  of  figure  as  well  as  fulness  of  dress  is  con- 
sidered as  a  great  beauty,  and  this  passage  is  merely 
a  full  description  of  such  a  figure. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  169 

If  the  reader  wishes  to  see  the  purity  of  revelation 
compared  with  the  pollution  of  earthly  poetry,  let  him 
compare  a  Greek  song  with  a  Hebrew  psalm.  Both 
are  ardent ;  both  use  the  boldest  personification,  and 
both  impute  their  own  raptures  to  the  silent  motions 
of  the  surrounding  creation !  Anacreon  and  David 
have  both  lighted  the  torch  of  the  imagination  at  the 
fireplace  of  the  heart,  and  have  illuminated  the  crea- 
tion with  the  blaze  they  had  kindled.  But  how  dif- 
ferent ! 

First,  Anacreon :  — 

"  The  thirsty  earth  soaks  up  the  rain, 
That  drinks  and  gapes  for  drink  again ; 
The  plants  suck  up  the  earth,  and  are 
By  constant  drinking  fresh  and  fair ; 
The  sea  itself  (which  one  would  think 
Should  have  but  little  need  of  drink) 
Drinks  ten  thousand  rivers  up, 
So  filled  that  they  o'erflow  the  cup  ; 
The  busy  sun  (and  one  would  guess 
By  's  drunken,  fiery  face  no  less) 
Drinks  up  the  sea  ;  and  when  he  's  done, 
The  moon  and  stars  drink  up  the  sun  ; 
They  drink  and  dance  by  their  own  light, 
They  drink  and  revel  all  the  night. 
Nothing  on  earth  is  sober  found, 
But  an  eternal  health  goes  round ; 
Fill  up  the  bowl,  there,  —  fill  it  high, 
Fill  all  the  glasses,  then  ;   for  why 
Should  every  creature  drink  but  I  ? 
Ye  temperance-people,  tell  me  why  ?  " 

COWLBY'S  Translation. 

8 


170  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

The  Psalmist  hears  a  different  voice  from  nature: 
"  Praise  the  Lord  from  the  earth,  ye  dragons  and  all 
deeps,  snow  and  vapor,  stormy  wind,  fulfilling  his  word  ; 
mountains  and  all  hills,  fruitful  trees,  and  all  cedars. 
Beasts  and  cattle,  creeping  things  and  flying  fowl. 
Kings  of  the  earth  and  all  people  ;  princes  and  judges 
of  the  earth.  Both  young  men  and  maidens,  old  men 
and  children.  Let  them  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord  ; 
for  his  name  alone  is  excellent ;  his  glory  is  above  the 
heavens." 

Such  are  the  different  revelations  of  nature  to  dif- 
ferent minds,  and  such  are  the  contrary  ways  in  which 
the  most  fertile  imagination  may  be  employed.  Where 
the  Greek  poet  sees  nothing  but  a  drunken  creation 
dancing  around  him,  the  Psalmist  beholds  a  chorus  of 
worshippers  praising  his  God. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  171 


VI. 


THE   DOUBLE   SENSE. 

As  I  shall  consider  this  book  as  a  continued  alle- 
gory, it  becomes  very  important  to  trace  that  fact  to 
a  general  principle.  This  Song  is  not  a  single  exam- 
ple. The  practice  of  using  allegories  reigns  among 
all  the  sacred  writers  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  this 
practice  generates  the  double  sense.  Let  us,  then, 
endeavor  to  state  the  reality  and  naturalness  of  this 
peculiar  mode  of  pleasing  and  teaching  a  primitive 
people. 

By  the  double  sense  we  mean  generally  historical 
symbols,  —  that  is,  one  event  in  history  may  bear  such 
an  analogy  to  another,  that  it  may  be  a  figure  and  a 
sign  of  what  is  yet  to  come.*  Thus,  the  return  from 
the  Babylonish  captivity  may  be  a  sign  of  the  gen- 
eral redemption  of  mankind,  and  all  those  passages  in 
Isaiah  and  the  other  prophets,  of  passing  through  the 
wilderness,  of  opening  rivers  in  high  places,  of  levelling 
every  mound  and  filling  up  every  valley,  may  be  ap- 

*  It  must  be  allowed  that  other  symbols  beside  historic  events  gener- 
ate the  double  sense. 


172  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

plied  to  the  spreading  of  the  Gospel  and  the  recovery 
of  our  world. 

When  we  consider  that,  in  the  order  of  things,  no 
individual  exists  which  does  not  belong  to  a  class  and 
have  a  reference  to  its  own  individuality  and  to  the 
class  to  which  it  belongs,  we  may  say  that  something 
of  the  double  sense  pervades  all  nature.  We  know 
of  nothing  whose  whole  signification  is  confined  to  it- 
self. Cicero  saw  this ;  for  he  makes  Antony  (in  his 
dialogue,  De  Oratore)  censure  the  pedants  who  divided 
all  causes  into  the  individual  and  general ;  for  he  says : 
"  Ignari  omnes  controversias  ad  universi  generis  vim  et 
naturam  referri"  (Lib.  II.  §31),  —  "They  are  igno- 
rant that  all  controversies  belong  in  force  and  nature 
to  general  questions."  We  cannot  imagine  an  object 
in  existence  —  except  God  and  the  universe  —  which 
does  not  indicate  the  species  or  genus  to  which  it  be- 
longs ;  and  surely  the  fall  of  Babylon,  or  the  deliver- 
ance from  Egypt,  must  bear  some  similitude,  and  of 
course  give  some  indication  of  all  the  other  inflic- 
tions and  deliverances  by  which  God  manifests  his 
protection  of  his  people  and  the  progress  of  his  king- 
dom. 

It  is  a  general  law,  that  the  double  sense  should  indi- 
cate itself  not  only  by  its  magnificence  and  oneness, 
but  also  by  other  unmistakable  signals.  There  is  a 
general  form  which  it  adopts  as  certain  as  any  other 
law  of  language.  As  in  the  imagery  which  Homer  or 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  173 

Milton  applies  to  Heaven,  so  in  the  expressions  which 
look  beyond  the  passing  event,  their  pregnancy  shows 
their  design.  When  Apollo  comes  down  from  heaven, 
his  quiver  rattles  on  his  shoulders,  his  arrows  fly ;  but 
they  are  invisible,  and  they  produce  malignant  disease 
and  death  ;  and  from  the  circumstances  of  the  Grecian 
army,  exposed  on  the  marshes  around  Troy  and  under 
an  Oriental  sun,  and  from  the  mythological  character 
of  Apollo,  these  celestial  arrows  must  be  sunbeams. 
No  mistake  here.  So  in  the  Seventy-second  Psalm, 
when  it  is  said  :  "  And  great  shall  be  his  prosperity 
as  long  as  the  moon  endureth."  (Noyes's  translation.) 
And  again :  — 

"  He  shall  prosper,  and  to  him  shall  be  given  the  gold  of  Sheba : 
Prayer,  also,  shall  be  made  for  him  continually, 
And  daily  shall  he  be  praised. 
There  shall  be  abundance  of  corn  in  the  land  ; 

Even  on  the  tops  of  the  mountains  the  fruit  shall  shake  like  Lebanon ; 
And  they  of  the  cities  shall  flourish  like  grass  of  the  earth. 
His  name  shall  endure  forever; 
His  name  shall  be  continued  as  long  as  the  sun ; 
By  him  shall  men  bless  themselves  ; 
All  nations  shall  call  him  blessed." 

Surely  it  is  as  plain  that  this  is  not  solely  said  of 
Solomon,  as  that  Apollo's  arrows  are  not  literal  ones, 
for  we  are  reduced  to  this  alternative,  —  either  that 
the  sacred  writer  has  used  enormous  hyperboles,  vio- 
lating taste  as  much  as  truth,  and  ancient  taste  as 
much  as  modern,  or  we  must  conclude  he  has  some- 


174  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

thing  analogous,  but  something  deeper  than  the  sur- 
face-meaning ;  and  as  to  what  has  been  said,  and  so 
idly  repeated,  —  "  Quae  iriterpretandi  ratio,  qua  una  ea- 
demque  oratione,  dispari  serisu  accepta,  plures  simul 
eventus  disjunctos  tempore,  natura  dissimiles  desig- 
nari  statuatur,  ab  omnibus  rectae  interpretandi  artis 
praeceptis  ita  aliena  est,  ut  qui  in  Graeco  aut  Ro- 
mano aliquo  scriptore  adhibere  illam  velit,  is  in  commu- 
nem  prudentiorum  reprehensionem  incurreret,"  —  can 
there  be  anything  in  this  objection  ?  In  the  first  place, 
as  to  the  fact  that  the  Greek  and  Roman  writers  have 
no  specimens  of  this  under-meaning.  Whenever  they 
approach  the  field  of  double  authorship  and  imaginary 
inspiration,  they  give  plain  indications  that  they  are 
forced  upon  similar  exigencies ;  they  conform  as  much 
as  their  barren  religion  allowed  them  to  conform  to 
similar  language.  The  very  wolf  that  suckled  Romu- 
lus was  a  double  being,  —  partly  literal  and  partly  a 
symbol  of  what  Rome  was  to  be.  But,  secondly,  if 
the  Greeks  and  Romans  never  had  used  similar  modes, 
it  would  be  nothing  to  the  purpose.  All  language  is 
colored  by  its  subject.  The  Hebrew  writers  stood  on 
peculiar  ground.  Their  object  was  peculiar  ;  and,  as 
Paul  tells  us,  they  were  irvevpaTiKois  Trvevfia-riKa  avy- 
Kplvovres,  explaining  spiritual  ideas  in  a  spiritual  ter- 
minology. It  is  not  true,  moreover,  that  the  events 
brought  together,  though  disjunctos  tempore,  are  natura 
dissimiles^  —  dissimilar  in  nature.  The  Jewish  econ- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  175 

omy  was  one  great  preparation ;  the  culminating  point 
was  always  before  them.  Every  king  was  a  Messiah 
or  an  anointed  one ;  they  stood  in  a  long  line  of 
succession,  the  great  Messiah  closing  the  procession. 
Every  king  not  only  resembled  him,  but  actually  pre- 
pared the  way.  The  prophets  supposed  themselves 
inspired  by  an  all-foreseeing  Mind.  They  did  not  pre- 
tend to  understand  all  they  said.  Their  brightest  vis- 
ions were  partial  revelations ;  and  they  had  before  them 
an  illustrious  history,  very  illustrious,  but  very  indefi- 
nite as  to  time  and  extent.  Now,  in  such  cases,  was 
it  unnatural  —  was  it  not  almost  necessary  —  that  they 
should  fall  into  that  line  of  revelation  which  the  best 
interpreters  (such  as  Lowth,  for  example)  have  im- 
puted to  them  ?  Instead  of  finding  any  difficulty  in 
one  great  under-meaning,  I  should  have  been  very 
much  astonished  had  it  not  been  so. 

When  a  writer  or  speaker  in  any  time  or  language 
has  some  dark  communication  to  make,  it  is  a  good 
rule  of  interpretation  to  find  his  end  or  terminating 
point.  We  interpret  his  p^ara  by  his  6  Xoyo?.  Thus 
when  Tiresias  comes  upon  the  stage,  in  the  (Edipus 
Tyrannus,  or  Clytemnestra  in  the  Agamemnon  of  ^Es- 
chylus,  their  language  is  very  obscure,  —  designedly 
so  ;  and  in  the  case  of  (Edipus,  for  example,  we  always 
forerun  him  in  understanding  the  prophet's  language. 
We  almost  wonder  at  his  dulness.  We  forget  that 
6  Xoyo?  is  always  before  us.  We  see  the  end.  It  is 


176  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

just  so  in  reading  the  sacred  prophets.  It  is  expected, 
it  is  the  design,  it  is  the  wisdom,  it  is  the  beauty  of 
prophecy,  that  we  should  understand  it  better  than 
those  to  whom  it  was  first  uttered,  or  at  least  that 
we  should  have  a  key  which  they  had  not.  Surely 
the  development  reflects  back  on  the  antecedent  indi- 
cations. The  enigma  which  the  great  Author  himself 
has  explained  is  solved  forever. 

However,  there  is  abundance  of  indication  that  this 
mode  was  common  to  all  nations.  It  violates  no  law 
of  language,  because  it  violates  no  custom.  It  intro- 
duces no  obscurity,  except  an  intentional  and  tempo- 
rary one.  It  is  founded  on  this  great  principle,  that 
A  FACT  MAY  BE  A  SYMBOL  ;  and  when  a  nation  or  the 
taste  of  the  age  abounds  in  symbols,  and  has  a  taste 
for  them,  why  should  they  not  sometimes,  often,  take 
facts  ?  A  myth  is  a  fact  exaggerated  and  shaped  so 
as  to  be  a  symbol.  But  if  fiction  can  answer  this 
purpose,  why  not  truth  ?  If  the  story  of  the  fall  of 
Adam,  considered  as  a  'myth,  shows  the  propensity  to 
and  prevalence  of  sin,  how  much  more  does  it  impress 
that  idea  considered  as  a  fact !  The  story  of  Christ  is 
an  idea,  to  impress  a  useful  lesson,  says  Strauss.  Very 
well ;  the  idea  becames  doubly  impressive  when  it  is 
supported  by  the  fact. 

Two  considerations  are  important :  — 

I.  In  the  first  place,  we  may  say  the  double  sense 
arises  from  the  general  law  of  development  in  human 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  177 

language.  Language — written  language  —  begins  by- 
picture-writing,  as  we  see  in  the  rude  specimens  left 
by  our  Iroquois  ;  then  it  proceeds  to  symbolic  pictures, 
and  finally  to  an  alphabet,  or  phonic  sounds.  During 
all  the  time  when  symbol-signs  prevail  previously  to  the 
invention  of  letters,  the  whole  art  of  writing  depends 
on  a  sort  of  double  sense.  The  art  of  reading  is  the 
art  of  interpreting  these  latent  symbols.  A  dove  may 
signify  love,  or  meekness  ;  a  lion,  a  hero  ;  a  dog,  fidel- 
ity ;  one  man  leading  another  by  a  string  (as  is  actually 
seen  in  the  relics  of  the  Iroquois  preserved  in  the 
Documentary  History  of  New  York,  Vol.  I.  p.  13)  may 
signify  a  victory  in  which  captives  were  taken.  Thus 
springs  up  from  necessity  a  symbolic  meaning  joined 
to  the  literal,  or,  in  other  words,  the  double  sense. 
But,  as  Dr.  Warburton  observes  (Divine  Legation,  Vol. 
II.  p.  143),  "that  which  had  its  origin  from  necessity 
came  in  time  to  be  employed  for  secrecy  and  improved 
for  ornament."  It  long  lingered  in  the  primitive  lan- 
guages which  had  escaped  from  the  narrow  limits  of 
picture-writing.  Their  taste  had  been  formed  on  it ; 
it  was  regarded  as  a  great  beauty,  and  it  was  even  still 
necessary  to  convey  the  great  impressions  which  the 
Hebrew  writers  aimed  to  produce.  When  they  wished, 
therefore,  to  produce  by  anticipation  the  conception  of 
John  the  Baptist,  they  call  him  Elias,  or,  as  we  should 
say,  an  Elias.  To  picture  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  they 
portray  the  expanded  reign  of  Solomon.  This  was  all 


178  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

natural,  and  almost  necessary,  in  the  line  of  linguistic 
improvement  in  which  they  then  stood.  Instead  of 
its  being  true,  as  Michaelis  has  said,  and  others  have 
ingeminated,  that  such  a  mode  is  "  peculiar  to  the 
sacred  poetry  of  the  Hebrews,  that  the  sacred  writing 
must  be  interpreted  by  rules  in  every  respect  different 
from  other  writings,"  (see  Note  on  Lowth's  Ninth 
Lecture,)  I  should  say  nothing  can  be  more  natural ; 
it  is  all  but  a  necessary  law  ;  it  marks  the  dawn  of 
literature  ;  it  is  just  as  natural  as  some  of  Homer's 
infantine  expressions ;  so  impossible  to  be  used  now, 
and  therefore  such  exquisite  proofs  of  the  genius  of 
the  man  and  the  age. 

We  say,  then,  that  double  sense  arises  from  the  form 
of  language  and  the  grade  of  its  progress  in  that  early 
age.  But  again, 

II.  It  arises  from  the  double  authorship  of  the  Bible 
and  the  double  object  of  most  of  the  prophecies.  Most 
of  the  Psalms  and  the  prophecies  had  some  occasional 
subject,  —  some  incident  in  a  greater  chain.  The  first 
meaning  arrests  the  attention  of  the  contemporary 
speaker ;  but  the  inspiring  spirit  is  supposed  to  have 
a  deeper  intent ;  of  course  God  sees  farther  than  man, 
and  this  recondite  meaning  is  one  of  the  signals  of 
inspiration.  It  is  an  exquisite  proof  and  character- 
istic of  the  presence  and  wisdom  of  the  wiser  mind. 
All  this  is  exemplified  in  the  unwilling  prophecy  of 
Caiaphas  (John  xi.  47-52)  :  "  Then  gathered  the  chief 


THE    MANUDUCTION.  179 

priests  and  the  Pharisees  a  council,  and  said,  What 
shall  we  do  ?  for  this  man  doth  many  miracles.  If  we 
let  him  alone,  all  men  will  believe  on  him,  and  the 
Romans  will  come  and  take  away  both  our  place  and 
nation.  And  one  of  them,  named  Caiaphas,  being  the 
high-priest  that  same  year,  said  unto  them,  Ye  know 
nothing  at  all ;  nor  consider  that  it  is  expedient  for 
us  that  one  man  should  die  for  the  people,  and  that 
the  whole  nation  perish  not.  And  this  he  spake  not 
of  himself;  but,  being  high-priest  that  year,  he  proph- 
esied that  Jesus  should  die  for  that  nation  ;  and  not 
for  that  nation  only,  but  that  also  he  should  gather 
together  in  one  the  children  of  God  that  were  scat- 
tered abroad."  Who  does  not  see  the  deeper  purpose 
of  the  Power  that  overruled  his  speech  beyond  his 
meaning?  All  the  high-priest  intended  was  to  teach 
the  doctrine  of  expediency.  It  is  true,  he  concedes 
Christ  may  not  be  guilty  according  to  any  positive 
law,  —  certainly  not  the  Roman  law ;  but  it  is  neces- 
sary for  our  safety  that  he  should  die.  The  high-priest 
looked  no  further, — he  meant  no  more.  But  God  over- 
ruled his  words  to  a  higher  purpose,  and  this  unwil- 
ling testimony  was  very  striking.  Such  prophecies 
have  always  been  considered  as  an  example  of  God's 
speaking  through  the  voice  of  man.  Shakespeare 
has  used  this  proof  of  double  authorship  in  the  scene 
between  Margaret  and  Richard  (Richard  III.,  Act  I. 
Scene  3) :  — 


180  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

Gloster.     Have  done  thy  charm,  thou  hateful,  withered  hag. 

Q.  Margaret.  And  leave  out  thee  ?    Stay,  dog,  for  thou  shall  hear  me ! 
If  Heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store 
Exceeding  those  that  I  can  wish  upon  thee, 
O  let  them  keep  it  till  thy  sins  be  ripe, 
And  then  hurl  down  their  indignation 
On  thee,  the  troubler  of  the  poor  world's  peace ! 
The  worm  of  conscience  still  begnaw  thy  soul ! 
Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  while  thou  livcst, 
And  take  deep  traitors  for  thy  dearest  friends  ! 
No  sleep  close  up  that  deadly  eye  of  thine, 
Unless  it  be  with  some  tormenting  dream 
Affrights  thee  with  a  hell  of  ugly  devils  ; 
Thou  elvish-marked,  abortive,  rooting  hog  ! 
Thou  that  wast  sealed  in  thy  nativity 
The  slave  of  nature  and  the  son  of  hell ! 
Thou  slander  of  thy  mother's  heavy  womb  ! 
Thou  loathed  issue  of  thy  father's  loins  ! 
Thou  rag  of  honor !  thou  detested 

Glos.    Margaret. 

Q.  Mar.  Richard! 

Glos.  Ha  ? 

Q.  Mar.  I  call  thee  not. 

Glos.    I  cry  thee  mercy,  then ;  for  I  did  think 
That  thou  didst  call  me  all  these  bitter  names. 

Q.  Mar.     Why  so  I  did;  but  looked  for  no  reply. 
O  let  me  make  the  period  to  my  curse. 

Glos.    'T  is  done  by  me ;  and  ends  in  —  Margaret. 

Q.  Eliz.     Thus  have  you  breathed  your  curse  against  yourself. 

Every  one,  I  think,  must  see  the  poet's  design  in 
this  dialogue.  It  is  to  make  Queen  Margaret  the  un- 
conscious instrument  in  the  hand  of  Providence  of 
pronouncing  a  curse  against  herself;  just  as,  when 
Samuel  turned  from  Saul,  and  he  caught  hold  of  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  181 

garment  and  it  rent  (1  Samuel  xv.  48),  the  prophet 
seizes  the  occasion  to  say  to  the  king :  u  The  Lord 
hath  rent  the  kingdom  of  Israel  from  thee  this  day, 
and  hath  given  it  to  a  neighbor  of  thine  which  is 
better  than  thou."  A  wise  Providence  can  use  the 
simplest  incident  as  a  sign.  Such  seems  to  be  the 
spirit  of  the  narrative.  When  Paulus  ^Emilius  was 
appointed  to  conduct  the  war  against  Macedon,  he 
returned  home  to  meet  his  little  daughter  at  the  door, 
who  told  her  father  that  Perses  (the  name  of  her  lap- 
dog)  was  dead.  It  was  the  name  also  of  the  Mace- 
donian king.  He  embraced  the  child  with  rapture, 
and  received  the  words  as  a  prediction  of  the  fall  of 
his  regal  foe.  Here  we  have  the  double  sense.  The 
girl  meant  her  little  dog  was  dead.  The  father  sup- 
posed he  saw  a  deeper  signification,  and  what  gave 
a  charm  to  the  incident  was,  that  the  gods  were  be- 
lieved to  overrule  such  a  trifle  to  signify  their  high, 
celestial  will.  As  Xenophon  has  told  us  of  Socrates, 
those  that  use  auguries,  and  voices,  and  symbols,  &c., 
do  not  imagine  that  the  birds,  and  the  speakers,  and 
the  portents  themselves,  know  what  conduces  to  our 
future  prosperity,  but  that  the  gods  by  THESE  THINGS 
signify  our  welfare  ;  —  so  at  least  thought  Socrates. 
Now,  it  would  have  been  very  strange  if  the  Hebrews 
had  not  imbibed  such  an  opinion,  for  the  whole  theoc- 
racy was  inwoven  with  significations  of  the  Divine  will. 
The  waters  of  jealousy  implied  a  perpetual  presence  of 


182  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

a  miraculous  providence.  The  Urim  and  Thummim, 
the  seer,  the  ephod,  &c.,  postulated  the  idea  that  God 
to  them  was  always  present ;  and  nothing  was  more  nat- 
ural, not  to  say  necessary,  than  that  they  should  seek 
these  Divine  intimations  in  one  great  under-meaning. 
It  arose  from  the  magnificent  ultimate  design  of  their 
great  economy. 

It  is  often  asked,  why  the  Bible  should  be  subject 
to  laws  applicable  to  no  other  book.  The  answer  is 
obvious.  Properly  speaking,  the  Bible  is  subjected  to 
no  unusual  laws.  When  it  is  said  the  Bible  must 
be  interpreted  like  any  other  book,  a  great  fallacy  is 
often  suggested.  We  interpret  the  Bible  like  any  other 
book,  supposing  it  possible  to  place  any  other  book  in 
similar  circumstances.  The  very  heathen  themselves, 
when  they  supposed  the  writing  inspired,  imputed  a 
double  sense  to  it.  It  is  an  everlasting  law,  —  it  is 
perfectly  natural.  The  Deity  has  a  deeper  meaning 
than  mortals. 

One  of  the  clearest  examples  is  found  in  Acts  ii. 
25.  The  occasion  was  important,  the  speaker  was 
inspired,  and  the  audience  versed  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. It  was  Peter's  first  discourse  to  prove  the 
divine  origin  of  the  Gospel  he  was  called  upon  to 
proclaim.  He  was  to  set  the  key-note  and  to  build 
his  conclusions  on  a  strong  foundation.  Prophecy  is 
his  foundation,  and  he  quotes  the  Sixteenth  Psalm, 
verses  8 - 10 :  "I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  183 

me  ;  because  he  is  on  my  right  hand,  I  shall  not 
be  moved.  Therefore  my  heart  is  glad  and  my  glory 
rejoiceth ;  my  flesh  also  shall  rest  in  hope  ;  for  thou 
wilt  not  leave  my  soul  in  hell ;  neither  wilt  thou  suffer 
thine  Holy  One  to  see  corruption."  Peter  does  not 
quote  the  Hebrew,  but  the  Septuagint,  and  hence  the 
variation  in  the  words  between  the  Old  Testament 
and  the  Apostle's  quotation.  The  sense,  however,  is 
the  same.  When  we  turn  to  the  Psalm,  we  find  not 
the  least  hint  that  David  was  speaking  of  any  other 
except  himself.  The  Psalm  seems  to  be  simple  and 
clear ;  the  inscription  gives  it  to  David ;  he  is  speak- 
ing of  himself  through  the  whole  course  of  it,  and 
in  these  verses  it  is  "  my  right  hand,"  "  my  heart," 
"my  glory;"  and  yet  the  Apostle  tells  us,  both  nega- 
tively and  positively,  that  it  does  not  in  his  own  ap- 
plication of  it  apply  to  David,  and  it  does  apply  to 
Christ.  "  Men  and  brethren,  Let  me  freely  speak " 
(^ero,  iropprio-ias,  a  phrase  which  the  Apostles  often 
use  when  they  are  deducing  the  Gospel  from  some 
latent  passage  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  it  may  be 
rendered,  Let  me  burst  away  from  the  old,  narrow  ap- 
plication) "  unto  you  of  the  patriarch  David,  that  he 
is  both  dead  and  buried,  and  his  sepulchre  is  with 
us  unto  this  day.  Therefore,  being  a  prophet,  and 
knowing  that  God  had  sworn  with  an  oath  to  him, 
that  of  the  fruit  of  his  loins,  according  to  the  flesh, 
he  would  raise  up  Christ  to  sit  on  his  throne ;  he, 


184  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

seeing  this  before,  speaks  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ, 
that  his  soul  was  not  left  in  hell,  neither  his  flesh 
did  see  corruption."  So  in  the  thirty-fourth  verse  he 
says :  "  For  David  is  not  ascended  into  heaven,"  &c. 
Now  it  seems  to  me  impossible  for  language  to  be 
more  explicit.  We  have  a  double  affirmation,  —  what 
is  and  what  is  not ;  and  I  see  no  way  in  which  we 
can  meet  the  Apostle's  expression  but  by  allowing  that 
he  finds  an  under-meaning  in  David's  words.  Their 
whole  force  was  not  exhausted  in  him ;  and  if  any 
one  should  ask,  How  is  it  then  a  prediction,  if  no  one 
so  understood  it  before  the  fulfilment,  and  no  such 
meaning  is  necessitated  by  the  laws  of  language, — 
we  answer:  First,  that  prophecy  occupies  all  the  va- 
rieties of  prediction,  the  latent  hint  and  the  clear 
expression,  and  it  may  be  the  design  of  God  in  this 
case  to  give  us  one  of  the  forms  which  to  the  Jew 
was  very  impressive.  Besides,  it  is  obvious  that  David 
is  feeling  after  some  deeper  thought,  —  some  vast 
idea  which  he  does  not  fully  comprehend  and  hardly 
knows  how  to  manage.  The  conception  of  immortality 
through  a  resurrection  seems  to  be  before  him,  and 
the  author  of  that  resurrection  was  to  be  Christ.  Pe- 
ter unfolded  the  idea,  the  germ  of  which  was  in  the 
patriarch's  mind. 

We  have  here,  then,  a  clear  example  of  an  inspired 
Apostle  arguing  the  proof  of  the  G-ospel  from  a  pas- 
sage applicable  only  through  a  double  sense. 


THE  MANUDUCTIOK  185 

We  should  hardly  look  to  Archbishop  Leighton  for 
acute  criticism  on  Scripture ;  he  had  no  taste  for 
philology  and  little  confidence  in  learned  speculation ; 
but  he  sometimes  sees  by  intuition  what  others  must 
find  by  long  research,  and  he  has  in  one  of  his  dis- 
courses this  profound  remark,  which  I  would  recom- 
mend to  all  such  as  overlook  the  truth  because  it  lies 
so  near  them :  "  That  which  some  call  divers  senses 
of  the  same  Scripture,  is  indeed  but  divers  parts  of 
one  full  sense."  (Select  Works,  Edinburgh  ed.,  1744, 
Sect.  IY.  p.  47.)  It  seems  to  me  this  is  an  important 
truth  uttered  without  the  least  parade. 

The  great  art  of  interpreting  this  ancient  volume 
—  the  Bible  —  seems  to  be  to  modernize  it ;  that  is,  to 
make  its  instructions  bear  with  equal  force  on  modern 
times  as  on  ancient  institutions.  The  forms  of  the  old 
world  have  perished ;  but  the  sacred  lesson  is  perma- 
nent. Now  there  are  two  ways  of  modernizing  these 
old  instructions.  One  is  to  see  the  precedents, — involv- 
ing in  temporary  events  eternal  principles  ;  the  other 
is  a  legitimate  use  of  the  under-meaning ;  such  a  use  as 
does  not  lead  to  the  old  extravagance.  Now  I  contend 
there  is  a  use  justified  by  eternal  truth  and  confirmed 
by  eternal  laws.  The  very  fact,  too,  that  this  mode  of 
interpreting  harmonizes  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
New,  gives  it  importance.  If  you  do  not  adopt  it,  you. 
are  in  danger  of  falling  into  a  barren  neology,  or  the 
old  Jewish  contradiction.  The  golden  thread  is  broken. 


186  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

The  Frenchman  who  saw  Othello  performed,  and,  not 
well  understanding  the  language,  supposed  the  hero 
was  raving  about  the  loss  of  a  handkerchief,  was  in  the 
exact  condition  of  a  philologer  reading  his  Bible  with- 
out the  under-meaning.  He  loses  the  spirit  of  an- 
tiquity, the  fulness  of  meaning,  the  force  of  prophecy, 
the  comprehensive  sublimity  of  the  design,  the  author- 
ity of  inspiration,  and  he  stands  on  a  slippery  grade, 
where  he  is  in  danger  of  sliding  down  to  the  lowest 
and  most  barren  views  of  revelation,  if  he  is  not  par- 
tially saved  by  a  happy  inconsistency. 

It  is  therefore  no  violation  of  a  Hebrew  custom  to 
suppose  this  divine  Song  to  be  an  allegory.  Indeed, 
the  latent  and  allegorical  mutually  imply  each  other.* 

*  Perhaps  it  is  not  considered  that  logic  implies  a  double  sense  in  every 
object  we  see,  —  the  individual  and  the  generic,  —  a  house,  a  field,  a  tree. 
Nothing  meets  the  mind  without  its  classifying  appendage.  We  never 
suppose  ourselves  to  know  a  thing  until  we  can  assign  it  its  rank,  or  class. 
In  a  similar  way  the  double  sense  of  Scripture  arises.  For  example,  deliv- 
erance from  the  Babylonish  captivity,  a  sample  of  all  gracious  deliverances, 
with  our  great  Christian  redemption  prominent  at  the  head  of  them.  It  is 
but  an  emphatic  specimen  of  the  double  sense  that  pervades  all  creation. 
Every  object  in  existence  has  two  significations,  —  itself  and  the  genus  to 
which  it  belongs  ;  and  it  is  by  this  double  signification  that  we  know  how 
to  give  it  a  name. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  187 


VII. 

• 

METAPHYSICS. 

PERHAPS  it  may  raise  a  wonder  that  a  book  giving 
important  instruction  on  such  topics  as  the  Bible 
should  employ  as  its  chosen  instruments  the  indefinites 
of  fancy,  the  coloring  of  poetry,  that  it  should  veil 
its  doctrines  in  figures  of  speech,  and  that  it  should 
seem  so  often  to  sacrifce  the  understanding  to  the 
heart.  In  later  times  men  choose  for  religion  a  more 
accurate  method  ;  they  choose  a  system,  a  definition,  a 
syllogism,  a  demonstration ;  whereas  the  Spirit  of  God, 
in  its  enlightening  and  inspiring  influences,  chooses  a 
song,  an  allegory,  a  figure  of  speech,  a  painted  cloud, 
bright  as  the  morning  sun,  but  far  less  certain  in  its 
glory  or  its  light.  This  is  a  method  which  our  second 
thoughts  only  pronounce  to  be  wise.  Our  first  objec- 
tions to  it  lead  to  the  last  discovery. 

Now  the  solution  is,  that  this  method,  with  refer- 
ence to  the  peculiar  subject  of  religion,  is  not  only 
more  impressive,  but  even  more  clear,  than  one  more 
didactic  and  more  metaphysical.  MEN  are  always  form- 
ing systems,  —  drawing  nice  lines,  in  morals  as  well  as 


188  THE  MANUDUGTION. 

mathematics ;  they  are  fond  of  points  without  mag- 
nitude and  lines  without  breadth  and  thickness ;  and 
from  these  fixed  ideas  they  hope  to  draw  certain 
demonstrations.  But  it  is  not  so  in  the  kingdom  of 
Nature.  Look  round  the.  world.  Who  can  tell  us 
where  the  sea  commences  and  the  dry  land  ends  ?  How 
high  must  the  swelling  mound  be  to  pass  from  a  hill 
into  a  mountain  ?  When  does  a  shrub  rise  into  a  tree, 
and  what  is  the  difference  between  an  elegant  house 
and  a  palace  ?  Is  New  Holland  an  island  or  a  con- 
tinent, or  are  the  Bermuda  Islands  in  the  West  In- 
dies or  not  ?  Nature  delights  to  make  her  works 
perfectly  obvious  without  nice  lines,  and  she  seems 
to  say  to  man,  You  must  understand  me  on  these  con- 
ditions. Strictly  speaking,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
metaphysics,  and  still  less  have  the  metaphysical  sci- 
ences shed  light  on  religion.  As  I  consider  this  as 
one  of  the  greatest  discoveries  of  modern  times,  allow 
me  to  illustrate  and  prove  this  important  conclusion. 

For  the  sake  of  method,  we  will  first  state  what  we 
mean  by  metaphysics ;  secondly,  show  that  it  is  an 
endless  pursuit  without  a  finding,  —  an  eternal  hunt 
without  the  captured  prey ;  thirdly,  the  reason  why  it 
ever  has  been  and  ever  must  be  so ;  and,  lastly,  this 
fact  foreseen  threw  the  inspired  teachers  on  a  very 
different  method. 

First,  then,  let  us  not  contend  about  an  airy  cloud. 
Let  us  state  what  we  mean  by  metaphysics  as  a  science. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  189 

It  is  one  of  those  words  which  we  seem  to  understand 
before  we  attempt  to  define  it.  Its  meaning  must  be 
learned  from  its  prevailing  use.  Now  the  metaphysi- 
cians uniformly  complain  of  the  language  of  the  forum ; 
it  is  not  accurate  enough  for  them ;  they  quit  the 
common  use  of  language  for  something  more  accurate, 
and  as  the  more  accurate  necessitates  the  most  accu- 
rate, they  never  can  cease  their  pursuit  until  they 
reach  an  accuracy  that  never  can  be  altered.  The 
subject  usually,  to  be  sure,  is  the  human  mind ;  and 
yet  metaphysics  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  synonymous 
with  mental  philosophy.  But  when  a  man  in  mental 
philosophy  departs  from  the  language  of  common  life 
in  pursuit  of  the  precise st  precision,  when  he  seeks 
fixed  ideas  for  fixed  words,  he  becomes  a  metaphy- 
sician ;  and  the  more  he  approaches  the  words  and 
meaning  of  them  so  perfect  as  to  be  fixed,  the  better 
metaphysician  he  is.  As  Democritus,  and  Epicurus, 
his  imitator,  in  considering  the  material  world,  chose 
to  resolve  it  into  atoms  (that  is,  particles  that  had 
undergone  their  last  dissection)  so  fine  that  they  could 
not  be  finer,  so  the  metaphysician,  in  considering  mind, 
wishes  to  analyze  it  into  its  last  elements.  The  mo- 
ment he  dissects  beyond  common  life,  he  stands  pledged 
never  to  quit  his  pursuit  until  he  has  landed  himself 
and  his  readers  on  the  coast  of  absolute  perfection. 
He  is  a  man  in  pursuit  of  language  and  ideas  per- 
manent from  their  perfection. 


190  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

Hence  Locke  invented  a  terminology  of  his  own  ; 
and  Kant  is  said  to  be  a  still  stronger  instance.  The 
latter  claimed  to  have  put  the  very  cap-stone  on  the 
edifice  of  mental  analysis.* 

This,  then,  is  the  science  of  metaphysics  ;  a  science 
which  leaves  the  foggy  sea  of  probability  and  common 
life,  to  land  us  on  the  cape  where  the  sun  shines  with 
undeviating  and  unsetting  beams.  A  metaphysician 
is  in  pursuit,  not  of  omniscience,  to  be  sure,  but  a 
human  perfection. 

But,  secondly,  we  remark  that  this  is  an  endless 
pursuit  without  a  finding,  an  eternal  hunt  without 
the  captured  prey.  Every  one  the  least  tinctured 
in  literature  knows  the  everlasting  mutations  which 
have  existed  in  the  several  systems  which  have  chased 
each  other  down  like  the  clouds  of  a  summer  day. 
Ever  since  Aristotle  and  Plato  have  established  their 
antagonist  schools,  the  metaphysical  writers  have  had 
a  very  transient  reputation  for  truth  ;  they  have  erect- 
ed their  systems  only  to  find  them  overthrown.  They 
have  had  a  great  influence  over  each  other,  but  a 
curious  influence.  One  generates  another,  —  it  is  con- 
stant action  and  reaction.  One  is  a  servile  follower 
of  another,  or  a  determined  opponent ;  and  when  an 
opponent,  he  sees  nothing  but  absurdities  in  the  sys- 
tem he  opposes.  The  influence  of  a  predecessor  over 

*  Certainly  his  admirers  claimed  it  for  him ;  I  do  not  know  whether 
he  claimed  it  for  himself.    His  cumbrous  terminology  seems  to  imply  it. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  191 

a  follower  is  immense.  He  either  enlarges  his  sys- 
tem or  overthrows  it.  Hobbs  produces  Malebranche ; 
Malebranche,  Locke  ;  Locke,  Berkeley  and  Hume;  then 
come  Reid  and  Stewart ;  then  the  German  school ;  and 
the  most  subtile  cannot  agree.  The  most  renowned 
of  them  are  destructives.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the 
most  subtile  speculations  in  this  indefinite  science  pro- 
duce almost  universal  conviction  in  the  uninitiated, 
and  awaken  objections  in  the  mind  of  the  collateral 
few;  a  system  is  built  up  to  be  overthrown,  —  built 
up  to  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  overthrown  to 
its  astonishment.  'The  history  of  metaphysics  repre- 
sents the  course  of  the  Neponset  River  in  our  vicin- 
ity ;  a  dike  is  built  up  to  accumulate  a  great  pond 
of  black  water,  full  of  mud-turtles  and  bloodsuckers, 
and  which  seems  to  be  deep  because  no  man  can  see' 
to  the  bottom,  and  whose  force  is  employed  in  turn- 
ing a  paper-mill.  The  engineering  lasts  for  a  time. 
Some  one  comes  and  breaks  the  dike ;  the  water  is 
dissipated,  the  stream  becomes  shallow,  and  the  dike 
with  its  black  water  is  removed  to  a  new  place,  and 
a  world  of  paper  of  similar  texture  is  made  in  several 
spots.  There  have  been  metaphysicians  of  great  inge- 
nuity, of  the  greatest  subtilty ;  but  on  what  was  their 
fame  founded  ?  The  greatest  of  them  have  been  de- 
structives. Locke  begins  his  work  with  a  destructive 
introduction,  —  no  such  thing  as  innate  ideas.  Hume, 
by  far  the  acutest  metaphysician  that  England  (per- 


192  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

haps  I  may  say  the  world)  ever  produced,  is  a  self- 
conscious  and  intentional  destructive.  He  means  to 
reduce  all  that  has  gone  before  him  to  a  reductio 
ad  absurdum.  He  aims  to  destroy  all  the  paper  for- 
tresses which  were  deceiving  mankind  by  their  seeming 
strength.  Berkeley,  a  little  earlier,  was  a  destructive 
without  knowing  it.  He  stood  one  grade  lower  than 
Hume,  because  he  had  the  acuteness  to  build  the  sys- 
tem which  he  had  not  the  acuteness  to  see  must  be 
destroyed.  Kant  is  said  to  be  a  destructive.  His 
fame  rests  on  what  he  overthrew  ;  and  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  the  wonder  of  our  age,  whose  miraculous 
learning  guided  his  almost  miraculous  sagacity,  reposes 
at  last  in  what  he  calls  a  learned  ignorance.  Such 
a  history  may  show  'the  Divine  wisdom  in  choosing 
other  channels  by  which  to  pour  out  the  effusions  of 
revealed  truth. 

There  is  another  consideration.  Revelation  is  for 
the  people,  not  for  the  few.  When  we  consider  that 
mankind  at  large  have  neither  patience  or  ability  to 
understand  these  nice  distinctions,  we  may  well:  rejoice 
in  the  Mercy  that,  in  pitying  our  hearts,  has  pitied  our 
intellects,  and  has  condescended  to  clothe  the  words  of 
salvation  in  a  vesture  of  light.  The  Lord  God  is  a 
sun  as  well  as  a  shield. 

In  the  works  of  God  and  in  the  ways  of  man  we 
find  one  remarkable  contrast.  Mankind  are  forced  by 
both  their  strength  and  weakness  on  a  logical  view  of 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  193 

the  works  of  God.  They  must  view  creation,  not  as 
a  huddle  of  unarranged  atoms,  but  under  the  form  of 
genus  and  species ;  and  what  we  call  understanding 
a  thing  is,  not  knowing  its  metaphysical  essence,  but 
arranging  it  in  its  proper  class,  according  to  its  simil- 
itude and  the  formal  laws  of  thought.  This  art  of 
arranging  begins  very  early  in  children.  They  know 
what  a  dog  or  cat  is,  because  they  know  how  to  ar- 
range them  according  to  the  technics  of  a  future  logic. 
The  first  impression  gives  the  distinction.  But  in  this 
arranging  the  source  of  all  future  knowledge,  there 
springs  up  one  false  impression  which  becomes  very 
deceptive.  We  impute  to  Nature  the  lines  drawn  by 
our  own  thoughts.  Nature  always  makes  a  compara- 
tively wide  margin  at  the  border.  The  species  fade  into 
each  other  in  confused  lines.  Man  is  always  distin- 
guishing, Nature  is  always  confounding ;  man  tries  to 
grasp  an  ideal  perfection,  Nature  only  approximates. 
Hence  the  Platonists  always  view  ideas  from  the  cen- 
tre, while  the  metaphysician  demands  the  boundary 
and  the  border.  But  this  is  a  knowledge  which  God 
perhaps  has  denied  to  all  beings  except  himself. 

Thus  the  history  of  metaphysics  shows  that  it  is  a 
vain  pursuit  of  unattainable  perfection  ;  that  is,  the 
perfection  of  a  permanent  resting-place.  True,  some 
one  may  say  that  it  is  fallacy  to  suppose  that  the  past 
is  a  measure  of  the  future ;  that  what  man  never  has 
found,  he  never  can  find ;  since  before  the  period  of 
9  M 


194  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

any  modern  discovery  this  would  have  been  found  false, 
or  might  have  generated  a  despair  which  would  have 
prevented  it.  I  allow  the  force  of  the  objection,  and 
will  proceed  to  show  why  the  science  of  metaphysics 
is  so  unstable  and  floating,  and  in  this  why  we  may 
find  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  above  plausible  ob- 
jection. 

Thirdly,  then,  we  maintain  that  we  can  see  the  rea- 
son of  this  everlasting  uncertainty  that  overhangs  all 
the  systems  which  have  been  offered  to  the  world.  It 
never  can  have  a  fixed  terminology,  because  it  never 
can  support  it  by  fixed  ideas.  The  last  analysis  of 
thought  can  never  be  found.  The  mathematics  is  sup- 
posed to  be  the  most  certain  of  the  sciences,  because 
it  sets  out  with  the  most  fixed  definitions.  But  how 
does  it  secure  them  ?  The  answer  is  instructive.  It 
secures  them  not  by  a  real  entity,  but  by  an  abstrac- 
tion. A  point  is  defined  position  without  magnitude. 
Did  such  a  point  ever  exist?  No,  —  nobody  supposes 
it.  "We  only  attempt  to  consider  position  without  mag- 
nitude ;  that  is,  for  all  the  purposes  of  demonstration, 
we  consider  the  place  and  leave  out  the  magnitude, 
knowing  all  the  time  that  a  point  as  a  metaphysical 
existence  never  can  be  found.  The  thing  is  an  utter 
impossibility  for  every  purpose  but  a  mathematical 
demonstration.  So  of  a  line,  so  of  a  surface.  But, 
a  fortiori,  when  we  pass  out  of  the  mathematical  re- 
gion, the  elementary  idea  becomes  an  impossibility. 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  195 

Time  is  the  condition  of  all  existence.  But  what  is 
time  ?  Is  it  the  motion  of  the  sun  ?  the  succession 
of  thought  ?  the  channel  of  thought  ?  or  what  is  it  ? 
Ask  the  question,  and  the  answer  vanishes.  We  can 
form  no  idea  of  time  as  an  absolute  whole  which  may 
not  immediately  become  an  integral  part.  No  por- 
tion of  time  so  small  that  it  may  not  suffer  division 
and  be  yet  smaller.  What  is  present  time  ?  I  see  no 
reason  why  time  should  not  be  as  indefinitely  divisible 
as  matter ;  that  is,  we  may  suppose  a  second  to  be 
divided  into  a  billion  of  parts,  and  only  one  of  these 
parts  present  at  once.  How  easy  would  it  be  to  show 
that  the  sharpest  pain  may  be  easily  borne,  for  it  can 
only  endure  the  billionth  part  of  a  second.  But  who 
cannot  endure  the  sharpest  pain  for  so  short  a  dura- 
tion ?  It  is  absolutely  zero,  and  many  zeros  amount 
to  nothing.  Ergo,  the  sharpest  pain  is  no  pain  what- 
ever,—  it  being  always  remembered  we  speak  meta- 
physically. Moreover,  with  regard  to  time,  contradic- 
tions must  be  true.  If  time  is  not  eternity,  it  must 
have  had  a  beginning,  an  absolute  beginning ;  but  this 
is  impossible,  since  we  can  imagine  no  era  so  high 
that  we  cannot  go  higher.  Here,  then,  is  a  neces- 
sary contradiction.  We  postulate  an  absolute  begin- 
ning which  we  immediately  pronounce  impossible.  Sir 
Wiliam  Hamilton  has  demonstrated  that  the  absolute, 
which  we  are  always  seeking,  and  to  which  we  are 
always  tending,  is  inconceivable.  So  our  ideas  of 


196  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

cause  and  effect,  absolute  unity,  personal  identity,  the 
one  and  the  many  in  the  mind,  how  its  unity  is  to 
be  contemplated  and  how  many  it  is  to  be  divided 
into,  —  all  these  things  admit  of  no  solution.  But 
these  are  the  counters  with  which  Metaphysics  pro- 
fesses to  perform  her  operations.  But  if  her  counters 
are  uncertain,  so  must  be  her  conclusions.  She  is 
ever  pursuing  the  absolute.  Now  if  the  absolute  does 
not  exist,  her  search  must  ever  be  in  vain.  She  has 
never  found  an  entity  which  does  not  admit  of  a  new 
section,  —  a  one  which  may  now  become  many.  Just 
as  an  integer  in  arithmetic  may  be  turned  into  an 
infinite  fraction  by  increasing  the  denominator. 

This  question  was  distinctly  before  the  old  Greek 
philosophers ;  it  is  discussed  by  Plato,  in  his  Parmeni- 
des.  The  one  and  the  many,  —  the  ontological  one 
and  the  ontological  many.  This  is  the  sum  of  all 
philosophy.  This  constitutes  the  archetypal  world, — 
the  world  of  ideas.  Science  demands  that  these  ideas 
should  be  rigid,  fixed,  immovable,  because  they  are 
the  elements  of  certain  knowledge.  But  how  can  we 
postulate  that  they  should  be  fixed  or  not  fixed  ?  If 
they  are  not  fixed,  there  is  no  science ;  and  if  they 
are  fixed,  how  shall  we  compare  them,  and  how  shall 
we  know  that  they  may  not  demand  a  new  fixing  ? 
Before  Plato,  the  schools  had  started  this  question,  and 
in  his  Parmenides  he  attempts  an  answer.  But  how 
dark  and  unsatisfactory  !  The  difficulties  of  that  dia- 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  197 

logue,  and  the  various  hypotheses  as  to  its  design  and 
meaning,  are  a  proof,  not  of  the  voluntary  obscurity 
of  the  author,  but  the  darkness  of  the  subject.  In  a 
word,  to  form  an  idea,  known  to  be  complete,  of  any- 
thing (except  our  pleasures  and  pains,  and  these  are 
never  so  high  but  they  may  be  higher),  —  a  tree,  a 
rock,  a  mountain,  a  drop  of  water,  a  gas,  or  any  chem- 
ical substance,  —  or  so  simple  that  it  cannot  be  sim- 
pler,—  is  beyond  the  abilities  of  the  human  mind.  But 
this  is  what  the  metaphysician  professes  and  designs. 
If  then  his  materials  fail  him,  no  wonder  his  edifice  is 
never  finished.  His  successor  always  comes  with  a 
nicer  analysis  ;  he  professes  to  get  nearer  the  absolute 
to  which  his  predecessor  has  aimed.  He  questions  his 
analysis,  and  says  his  elements  are  not  elements,  and  if 
these  elements  exist  out  of  the  circle  of  human  com- 
prehension,—  and  this  is  demonstrable,  not  from  his- 
tory only,  but  from  the  very  nature  of  the  mind  and 
the  object  it  pursues,  —  why  then  it  is  manifest  that 
the  pursuit  is  vain. 

The  language  of  the  forum  is  confessedly  approxi- 
matory.  You  not  only  know  that  you  fall  short  of 
ideal  accuracy,  but  you  have  in  your  mind  the  com- 
parative standard  by  which  you  speak.  You  aim  to 
be  in  harmony  with  your  fellow-men.  Your  rule  is 
a  conventional  one.  You  talk  of  envy,  love,  hope,  fear, 
government,  liberty,  the  Church,  or  the  State,  and  you 
are  under  a  tacit  obligation,  and,  if  you  are  a  man 


198  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

of  common  honesty,  it  is  your  earnest  aim  to  mean 
what  your  fellow-men  mean.  You  catch  your  note 
from  society;  you  sing  the  tune  of  the  times.  You 
know  very  well  that  these  words  are  capable  of  a  nicer 
analysis  ;  and  if  you  use  one  of  them  in  such  a  way 
you  give  notice  of  your  intention.  But  this  is  not 
the  stand-point  of  the  metaphysician ;  he  departs  from 
the  language  of  the  forum,  and  in  his  first  step  pro- 
fesses and  obliges  himself  not  to  rest  until  he  has 
found  the  absolute  element  of  thought.  He  must  an- 
alyze until  no  one  can  analyze  on  him.  For  where  is 
the  advantage  of  calling  a  compound  a  simple  ?  and 
where  is  the  benefit  of  a  journey  that  lands  you  among 
the  ambiguities  from  which  you  started,  and  which  it 
was  the  sole  object  of  your  migration  forever  to  escape  ? 

What  are  the  recent  metaphysicians  constantly  say- 
ing of  Locke  ?  It  is,  that  his  language  is  ambigu- 
ous, vacillating,  and  uncertain.  So  say  Reid,  Stewart, 
Cousin,  and  Sir  William  Hamilton.  They  complain  of 
his  terminology  and  wonder  at  his  vagueness.  Even 
the  word  idea,  the  hinge  of  his  whole  system,  is  not 
used  in  the  Platonic  sense,  and  is  used  with  the  least 
precision. 

Such  is  the  universal  complaint.  I  suspect,  how- 
ever, that  the  vagueness  of  Locke  is  only  comparative, 
and  is  owing  chiefly  to  the  finer  analysis  which  his 
speculations  have  enabled  his  disciples  and  antagonists 
to  make.  Continued  investigations  always  lead  to  new 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  199 

discriminations.  Kant  is  said  to  have  been  so  dissatis- 
fied with  the  result  of  the  past  as  to  have  given  him- 
self an  unbounded  license  in  introducing  a  new  termi- 
nology. Well, — did  he  reach  the  end  ?  Did  he  render 
superfluous  all  future  analysis  ?  Did  he  put  the  cap- 
stone on  the  mental  arch  ?  Nothing  like  it ;  he  set 
all  the  initiated  to  examining  his  systems,  and  he  now 
"  sways  a  doubtful  sceptre  amidst  a  host  of  oppo- 
nents." Finally  come  Fitch  and  Cousin,  finding,  as 
they  claim,  the  absolute,  that  is,  the  world  of  ideas 
radiating  from  one  all-inclusive  One  (such  as  Plato 
said  could  only  exist  in  the  Divine  Mind),  ideas  ab- 
solved from  all  the  grossness  of  matter  and  all  the 
imperfections  of  a  finite  mind.  And  Sir  William  Ham- 
ilton steps  in  and  shows  the  absolute  ;  the  uncondi- 
tional has  been  inconceivable  in  past  ages,  and  must  be 
so  in  all  ages  to  come.  The  only  metaphysician  in  the 
universe  is  God  on  his  eternal  throne. 

It  might  seem  strange  to  borrow  an  illustration  from 
a  material  science.  But  I  have  often  thought  that 
the  history  of  chemistry  for  a  century  past  might  illus- 
trate our  difficulties  in  the  department  of  metaphysics. 
It  is  evident  that  the  chemists  in  the  days  of  Chapital 
and  Lavoisier  contemplated  a  perfection  in  the  science 
and  an  adequacy  in  the  terminology  which  the  recent 
experimenters  have  long  since  abandoned  in  despair. 
It  is  pretty  clear  that  the  analyzer  never  can  know  or 
prove  that  he  has  found  a  simple  substance.  Those 


200  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

now  regarded  as  such  may  turn  out,  in  the  nicety  of 
our  future  experiments,  to  be  endless  compounds ;  and 
Nature  retires  to  a  more  secret  cell  as  we  pursue  her 
in  her  hidden  recesses.  She  draws  before  her  naked 
form  a  thicker  veil,  and  refuses  to  be  known.  So  far 
as  accuracy  is  concerned,  the  four  elements  of  the 
ancients,  with  their  sublime  quintessence,  may  be  as 
good  a  division  of  matter  as  any  we  yet  have  dis- 
covered. The  zero  of  the  thermometer  is  a  remark- 
able witness  of  our  efforts,  our  presumption,  our  de- 
feat. Zero  was  first  considered,  with  some  hesitation 
and  doubt,  as  the  highest  degree  of  cold  that  nature 
allowed ;  and  now  all  chemists  confess  there  is  no  zero, 
or  if  there  is,  it  never  can  be  known.  We  never  can 
find  the  highest  degree  of  heat  or  cold.  Now,  if  this 
material  science  thus  presents  us  its  insoluble  prob- 
lems, how  can  we  expect  to  reach  the  last,  the  fixed, 
the  eternal  analysis  of  the  human  mind  ?  If  the  cru- 
cible and  the  voltaic  battery  fail,  how  shall  a  man  suc- 
ceed when  his  implements  are  the  same  as  his  objects  ? 
Almost  the  only  thing  that  a  chemist  is  sure  of  is, 
that  his  finest  analysis  may  be  yet  finer.  And  though 
a  psychologist  may  know  the  usefulness  and  certainty 
of  his  relative  knowledge,  yet  the  true  metaphysician 
must  sit  down  in  despair  when  he  contemplates  the 
blunders  of  his  predecessors,  and  even  his  own  acute- 
ness  in  detecting  them.  The  same  sagacity  that  tells 
him  he  has  surpassed  them  on  the  troubled  sea,  must 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  201 

show  him  more  clearly  that  he  has  not  reached  the 
shore. 

To  this  illustrious  modern  (i.  e.  Locke)  we  may  add 
the  example  of  Plato ;  his  testimony  is  strong  against 
the  possible  existence  of  any  practical  system  of  meta- 
physics. No  one  saw  more  clearly,  or  divined  more 
accurately,  what  an  absolute  idea  or  simple  concept 
should  be.  Science  was  the  harmony  of  ideas,  and 
before  there  was  harmony  the  note  itself  must  be  fixed. 
The  simple  idea  did  not,  according  to  Plato,  exist  in 
anything  else,  ou8e  TTOV  ov  ev  erepw  -rivi,  but  d\\a  avTo 
KCL&  avro  fjieO*  avrov  /zoi/oetSe?  del  ov,  itself  according 
to  itself,  always  the  same.  Such  were  the  necessary 
elements  of  absolute  science.  But  where  do  they  exist 
in  their  necessary  perfection  ?  In  the  archetypal  world ; 
that  is,  the  objective  contemplations  of  the  Supreme 
Mind.  Plato  saw  the  necessity  of  such  simple  concepts ; 
he  believed  in  their  existence,  and  he  found  them  only 
in  the  Supreme  Being.  To  understand  one  of  his  ideas 
(since  its  intrinsic  nature  is  modified  by  its  relative 
standing),  he  postulates  omniscierice.  Ergo,  this  kind 
of  science  is  impossible  to  man. 

We  may  illustrate  this  impossibility  of  fixed  ideas  to 
our  wavering  minds  in  many  instances.  We  use  the 
words  "  present  consciousness  "  and  "  memory  "  in  com- 
mon parlance  without  suspecting  there  is  any  difficulty 
in  distinguishing  them.  We  are  conscious  of  the  joys 
or  sorrows  of  the  passing  hour,  we  remember  the  events 
9* 


202  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

of  yesterday ;  but  suppose  we  were  required  to  draw 
the  accurate  line  between  present  consciousness  and 
memory,  how  difficult !  how  perplexing !  how  impos- 
sible !  The  moment  is  gone  before  we  can  contemplate 
it ;  consciousness  becomes  memory  before  we  can  ask 
what  either  of  them  is.  Our  very  existence  is  a  slid- 
ing stream,  and  the  drop  before  us  slides  by  while  we 
are  fixing  its  place.  We  are  trying  to  fix  an  idea 
whose  very  nature  is  to  be  unfixed.  So  in  the  moral 
world  ;  we  love  the  lovely  object.  Call  it  beauty,  if 
you  please.  The  love  of  it  is  produced  by  the  percep- 
tion, and  yet  the  perception  implies  a  previous  love ;  for 
no  man  loves  by  his  intellectual  powers.  Now,  which 
goes  first  ?  which  is  parent  ?  which  is  child  ?  which  is 
cause  ?  which  is  effect  ?  Answer,  0  analyst,  if  you  can. 

Such  being  the  negative  point  in  which  all  these 
researches  culminate,  we  come,  lastly,  to  say,  that  this 
fact  foreseen  threw  the  inspired  writers  on  a  very  dif- 
ferent method.  We  may  first  remark  the  certainty  of 
the  fact. 

With  respect  to  the  Old  Testament  the  case  is  ob- 
vious. No  one  will  deny  that  it  is  delivered  to  us  in  a 
language  as  far  from  the  abstract  as  possible.  Its  ab- 
stract terms  are  of  the  most  primitive  character.  It 
teaches  by  history,  by  biography,  by  example,  by  poetry, 
by  allegory,  by  the  embryo-drama,  by  moral  painting, 
by  the  sighs  of  sorrow  and  the  gratulations  of  joy ;  — 
through  all  its  pages,  from  its  simple  history  to  the 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  203 

strains  of  the  prophets,  there  reigns  the  evidence  of 
the  most  primitive  simplicity.  It  has  not  even  risen 
up  to  the  language  of  the  forum,  and  the  wonder  is 
that  so  much  truth  can  be  communicated  by  such  sim- 
ple materials.  There  is  the  most  of  system  there  with 
the  least  of  form,  of  any  book  in  the  world  ;  and  it 
comes  from  this  fact,  that  higher  wisdom  never  spoke 
to  greater  ignorance.  But  when  we  come  to  the  New 
Testament,  though  a  nicer  language  is  chosen  and  we 
see  the  marks  of  a  more  cultivated  age,  yet  we  see  no 
traces  of  metaphysics  ;  that  is,  no  one  of  the  speak- 
ers or  writers  attempts  to  depart  from  the  terminology 
of  the  forum.  Not  even  St.  Paul,  educated  as  he  was 
in  the  highest  schools  of  his  nation.  I  defy  a  man 
to  point  out  a  single  word  in  all  his  writings  that  has 
the  least  tincture  of  a  scholastic  use.  His  dictionary 
is  always  a  conventional  one.  He  was  perfectly  under- 
stood in  every  synagogue  he  addressed.  It  is  true,  he 
often  departs  from  the  popular  Greek,  and  he  once 
gives  us  notice  of  it,  I  think  (1  Cor.  i.  13),  in  the  words 
which  our  translators  have  rendered  "  comparing  spirit- 
ual things  with  spiritual,"  which  may  be  translated, 
"  explaining  spiritual  thoughts  by  a  spiritual  terminol- 
ogy." But  this  terminology  did  not  come  from  a  meta- 
physical school.  It  came  from  two  sources,  —  the  mag- 
nitude of  his  subject,  and  the  hue  which  Hebrew  usage 
had  cast  over  his  Greek  dialect.  It  is  remarkable  of 
his  mental  terms,  that  they  are  all  from  the  forum ;  that, 


204  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

so  far  from  nice  distinctions,  many  of  them  are  synony- 
mous ;  and  so  far  is  he  from  showing  any  dependence  on 
closet-distinctions,  that  he  seems  rather  ambitious  to 
show  how  completely  he  can  convey  his  meaning  with- 
out them.  The  passage  (1  Thessalonians  v.  23),  "The 
very  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly  (oXoreXet?) .  and 
I  pray  God  your  whole  spirit,  and  soul,  and  body,  be 
preserved  blameless  unto  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  How  misleading  it  would  be  to  do  as  some 
Platonic  Christians  have  done,  —  to  make  an  intentional 
distinction  between  soul  and  spirit !  even  the  distinc- 
tion between  soul  and  body  fades  away  in  this  passage, 
—  oXoreXet?  is  the  explanatory  word,  —  the  Apostle's  in- 
tention being  to  say,  I  wish  you  to  be  entire  Christians. 
See,  then,  the  wisdom  of  abjuring  a  science  pro- 
gressive in  its  nature,  and  when  it  reaches  its  goal 
vanishing  into  the  inconceivable.  I  am  aware  no  the 
ological  seminary  has  or  can  exist  without  teaching  the 
science  of  mental  philosophy  and  all  the  metaphysics 
involved  in  it.  It  is  a  science  whose  history  is  use- 
ful ;  it  sharpens  the  intellect,  develops  our  nature, 
and  even  its  negative  discovery  is  very  important ;  as, 
when  we  come  to  a  river  where  one  place  is  not  ford- 
able  and  another  is,  knowing  the  danger  of  one  spot 
may  urge  us  to  another,  so  the  discovery  in  this  case 
is  not  a  vain  one.  We  have  had  the  hunt,  and  if 
we  have  taken  nothing,  we  have  enjoyed  the  chase 
and  go  to  a  field  of  equal  pleasure  and  greater  profit. 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  205 

The  sacred  writers,  therefore,  renouncing  this  source 
of  teaching,  are  directed  to  use  every  other.  They  call 
the  imagination,  the  heart,  the  picturing  hymn,  the 
painted  emotion,  the  related  fact,  the  sublime  illus- 
tration, to  their  service.  In  using  the  abstract  as  a 
minimum,  they  resort  to  other  sources  as  a  maximum, 
and  it  is  one  preparation  for  receiving  Solomon's  Song 
as  a  sublime  allegory,  to  remember  that  it  is  found  in 
a  book  which,  foreseeing  the  imbecility  of  man,  lisped 
to  him  in  the  language  which  his  childhood  needed, 
and  to  which  his  age,  after  all  its  specious  improve- 
ments, must  be  compelled  to  return. 


EXEMPLIFICATION. 

IT  has  been  peculiarly  disastrous  to  religion  to  ap- 
ply an  impossible  mental  analysis  to  explain  any  system 
of  its  doctrines.  Predestination,  the  foreknowledge  of 
the  Deity,  his  immutable  purposes,  how  prayer  can 
obtain  aught  of  a  perfect  and  unchangeable  nature, — 
all  these  and  similar  difficulties  are  enhanced  by  pos- 
tulating a  precision  of  knowledge  beyond  our  facul- 
ties. We  should  remember  that  God's  ways  are  not 
our  ways,  nor  his  thoughts  our  thoughts.  The  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  loses  its  objections  when  it  re- 
minds us  of  our  ignorance.  The  whole  rationale  of 
the  day  of  judgment,  the  great  trumpet  that  is  to 


206  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

wake  the  dead,  —  how  a  personal  Saviour  is  to  judge 
the  millions  that  have  lived,  —  all  this  admits  of  no 
accurate  analysis.  The  first  solemn  impression  is  the 
best  we  can  ever  receive.  Whenever  we  begin  to  ana- 
lyze, we  plunge  into  difficulties ;  and  why  should  the 
subtile  reason  undertake  to  mend  what  was  mainly 
addressed  to  the  yielding  heart  ? 

But  there  is  one  doctrine  of  our  holy  religion  which 
I  think  has  suffered  wofully  by  being  presented  to  us 
with  a  background  of  metaphysics  to  increase  its  pre- 
cision and  diminish  its  effect.  I  allude  to  the  doctrine 
of  the  ATONEMENT,  or  the  moral  import  of  the  death  of 
Christ.  It  is  called  in  Scripture  a  sacrifice,  and  we 
are  said  to  be  "  reconciled  to  God  by  the  death  of  his 
Son."  Now  the  whole  narrative  is  a  simple  and  affect- 
ing display  of  his  mercy  and  our  guilt.  They  go  to- 
gether ;  and  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead. 
The  first  impression  of  the  narrative  (after  we  are  told 
of  the  Godhead  and  incarnation  of  Christ)  is  the  most 
affecting.  It  was  a  great  effort,  for  which  there  must 
have  previously  existed  a  great  reason.  But  the  theo- 
logical metaphysician  thinks  he  must  explain  it  by  an 
analysis,  —  by  an  application  of  the  rigid  metaphysical 
art.  He  first  assumes  an  abstract  Justice  which  is  it- 
self independent  of  all  consequences,  all  the  practical 
evils  of  transgression,  and  this  abstract  Justice  must 
be  satisfied.  This  has  been  the  assumption  since  the 
days  of  Anselm ;  and  has  prevailed  over  the  minds  of 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  207 

those  that  seemed  to  modify  or  deny.  This  Justice 
must  be  illustrated  by  earthly  analogies  ;  not  one  of 
them  being  adequate  or  fully  reaching  the  case.  Thus 
a  king  is  said  to  give  up  his  son,  to  honor  the  law,  while 
he  pardons  the  criminal.  Thus  one  soldier  is  whipped 
in  the  place  of  another.*  It  is  remarkable,  however, 
that,  when  these  cases  occur  apart  from  any  theological 
illustration,  the  very  men  who  use  them  for  illustrations 
should  regard  them  as  proofs  of  barbarous  ignorance. 
We  have  an  example.  Cotton  Mather  apologizes  for 
and  even  denies  the  fact,  that  an  old  bedrid  weaver  was 
hung  in  the  place  of  a  strong  and  vigorous  warrior  of 
the  Puritans,  to  satisfy  the  Indians.  Gutzlaff  mentions 
it  as  a  proof  of  the  obtuseness  of  the  Chinese,  that  such 
substitutions  prevail  among -them.  When  the  Arabs, 
or  some  barbarous  tribe  on  our  American  coast,  in 
their  wild  ideas  of  justice,  —  by  a  double  mistake  con- 
founding the  idea  of  the  deed  and  the  identity  of  the 
people  who  do  it,  —  murder  the  crew  of  one  American 
ship  because  another  has  robbed  them,  all  see  the  cause 
of  the  deed.  The  fact  is,  there  is  no  finite  example  on 
earth  that  can  illustrate  the  justice  of  God  in  substi- 
tuting Christ  as  an  expiation  for  us  as  penal  sufferers. 
Every  analysis,  accompanied  as  they  usually  are  with  a 
human  illustration,  only  weakens  the  impression  which 
the  great  mystery  makes.  Christ  died  for  us  for  rea- 
sons infinitely  deeper  than  time  can  reveal.  I  doubt 

*  See  the  third  Sermon  on  the  Atonement,  by  the  younger  Edwards. 


208  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

myself  whether  there  is  any  such  thing  as  an  abstract 
Justice,  or,  in  other  words,  a  justice  which  is  conceiva- 
ble independent  of  the  consequences  of  our  good  and 
evil  deeds.  Justice  is  justice,  because  conformity  to  it 
promotes  social  happiness  and  a  disregard  of  it  involves 
the  community  in  misery  and  ruin.  Tear  the  ideas 
asunder,  and  both  of  them  are  lost. 

These  popular  illustrations  are  more  deceiving  be- 
cause they  do  illustrate  a  part  of  the  subject.  For  ex- 
ample, you  say  that  a  king  finds  a  province  in  rebellion  ; 
he  wishes  to  pardon  them,  but  fears  that  sin  followed 
by  no  suffering  will  seem  a  light  thing,  and  weaken  jus- 
tice. He  gives  up  his  only  son,  <fcc.,  &c. ;  —  and  thus 
you  hope  to  illustrate  the  justice  of  God  and  the  love  of 
Christ.  Now  the  fact  illustrates  the  love,  but  not  the 
justice.  If  the  king's  son  were  to  consent  to  die  in  such 
a  cause,  it  would  be  a  wonderful  act  of  love,  provided 
always  that  he  saw  the  necessity  and  the  wisdom  of  the 
deed.  But  I  cannot  see  how  it  illustrates  the  Divine 
justice ;  for  such  an  example  on  earth  could  never  be 
viewed  with  approbation. 

The  old  divines  most  fond  of  similar  illustrations  have 
been  obliged  to  save  their  theory  by  saying,  that  Christ 
stood  in  a  peculiar  position  ;  he  had  his  own  rights  ;  his 
submission  was  voluntary  ;  he  was  a  Divine  Being,  and 
was  not  a  common  subject  to  the  law ;  he  had  a  right 
to  be  a  substitute,  because  other  rights  did  not  hold  him. 
How  destructive  is  this  concession  to  their  whole  pur- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  209 

pose  !     Where  there  is  no  resemblance,  there  can  be  no 
illustration. 

Christ  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions ;  he  died, 
the  just  for  the  unjust ;  his  death  has  a  vicarious  im- 
port, but  surely  not  in  the  strict  sense  which  the  abso- 
lute idea  of  a  substitute  demands.  No  party  pretends 
this ;  those  that  carry  their  ideas  of  a  substitute  or  an 
imputation  highest  do  not  claim  that  Christ  was  punished 
for  us  in  the  strictest  sense.  The  strictest  justice  would 
demand  the  offending  victim ;  and  the  moment  you  de- 
part from  this,  you  take  your  stand  on  the  comparative 
ground. 


THE   EXAMPLE   OF   THE   SACRED   WRITERS. 

But  the  grand  proof  of  the  uselessness  of  metaphys- 
ics in  religion  is  the  example  of  Christ  and  the  sacred 
writers.  They  have  all  thrown  themselves  on  the  popu- 
lar terminology.  They  make  nothing  depend  on  a  nicer 
analysis.  They  seem  ambitious  to  show  us  that  religion, 
with  all  its  sublime  conceptions,  may  be  communicated 
in  those  broad  terms  which  are  every  day  used  in  the 
intercourse  of  common  men.  As  John  Bunyan  has 
shown  us  that  his  allegory  could  be  related  with  scarce- 
ly a  help  from  the  Latinized  terms  of  our  own  language, 
so  the  inspired  writers  seem  to  be  determined  to  show 
us  that  they  need  no  technics  of  the  mind,  —  no  distinc- 

N 


210  THE   MANUDUCTION. 

tions  or  names  beyond  the  usages  of  the  plainest  men. 
High  thoughts  can  be  imparted  in  simple  terms.  There 
is  a  remarkable  passage  in  one  of  Christ's  discourses 
(John  viii.  43)  :  Aiam  TTJV  \a\iav  rrjv  eprjv  ov  <yivu>- 
(TKere  ;  f  On  ov  SvvaaOe  aKovew  TOV  \oyov  rov  e^ov^  — 
"  You  cannot  understand  my  diction  because  you  have 
not  grasped  the  spirit  of  my  system."  There  is  a  dis- 
tinction here  between  o  Xoyo?  and  rj  \a\id ;  the  one 
the  all-comprehensive  word,  such  as  Gospel  grace,  &c., 
and  the  other  the  articulate  parts.  When  you  grasp 
the  one,  the  inclusive  mental  word,  you  understand 
the  other.  I  have  been  curious  to  pass  over  the  New 
Testament  and  select  all  the  words  that  express  the 
operation  of  mind  and  its  faculties,  and  not  one  of  them 
is  such  as  a  metaphysician  would  think  necessary  to 
his  simplest  discussions.  The  broad  faculties  are  named, 
the  broad  lines  are  distinguished ;  but  the  Divine  lan- 
guage would  be  a  golden  fetter  to  Locke,  Berkeley,  or 
Kant.  In  1  Thessalonians  v.  23,  we  have  a  seeming 
philosophical  distinction.  The  Apostle  speaks  of  TO  crw- 
fta,  the  body  ;  TJ  -^1/^77,  the  soul ;  TO  Trvev^a,  the  spirit ; 
but  certainly  not,  as  some  Platonists  have  dreamed,  with 
the  least  approach  to  the  Platonic  distinction.  The  ex- 
ponent of  these  words  is  found  in  the  first  clause  of  the 
verse,  "  May  the  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly," 
oXoTeXet?.  The  specific  mention  of  these  powers  is  to 
give  emphasis  to  that  idea.  The  other  mental  words 
used  are  all  of  the  forum.  The  following  are  the  chief : 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  211 


s,  KapSia,  vra^o?,  Tra^rj/^a,  avvecris,  <yvwcri<st 
the  will,  QeXrja-is,  <t>P1lv9  intelligentia,  mens, 
,  reflection,  wisdom,  prudence  ;  evQv/jLrjffis,  im- 
agination, thought,  vain  desire  ;  aia-Qrja-i,?  is  opposed  to 
€7r/yz/o>o-fc9?  —  the  first  the  sensual  perception,  the  last 
the  intellectual  knowledge  ;  ala6r)Tripiov,  the  seat  of  the 
senses  ;  i/oew,  mente  intelligo  (this  perhaps  is  the  most 
philosophic  word  in  the  Bible)  ;  z/o^a,  the  counsel  of 
the  mind  ;  eTr/crrayiKzt,  to  know  well,  to  know  super- 
sensually.  The  affections  of  the  mind  are  all  obvious 
and  popular  ;  ayavaicrew,  indignor  ;  dyairau,  the  best 

IT  »          '  '  '  >*;  '  »^l  *  »         '  rt 

love  ,  ayaTT?;,  ay^oea),  atoco?,  ac/i/yu-ea),  ava/AwrjcnS)  pov- 
\^  pouXiJijia,  rational  will,  deliberate  conclusion  ;  yz/cy- 
yt/,77,  purpose,  decision  ;  y^wo-t?,  knowledge,  discernment 
in  religion  ;  Seo?,  Stayi/oWo),  accurate  inquiry  ;  Sia- 
Kptvo),  to  judge,  to  hesitate.  EtSo?,  not  its  Platonic 
meaning,  from  the  Hebrew  JltOD  ;  e'lSo),  to  see,  to 
discern  ;  eWracr^,  alienatio  mentis  ,  the  ecstatic  state  ; 
eicwv,  volens  ;  evepyrjpa,  effectum  ;  evepyeia,  inner  power  ; 
evOvfieo^ai,  animo  volvo  ;  evOvfiija-K,  cogitatio  ;  ewoia,  the 
same  ;  eTrtflu/ieo),  to  desire,  —  the  noun  ;  eTTiyvwdis,  accu- 
rate knowledge  ;  lirlvoia,  praepositum  ;  e-n-iTroOeco,  desi- 
dero  abreptus  ;  Ov^os,  the  mind,  the  seat  of  aversion  and 
desire,  ira,  furor,  &c.  ;  ISea,  not  Platonic,  explained  Matt. 
xxviii.  3  ;  Ka-rakapfiavw,  —  a  remarkable  word,  applied 
to  the  mind  and  yet  popular  in  its  origin,  —  I  under- 
stand, I  take  your  meaning.  Aoylfapa*,  not  emphatic, 
,  —  both  these  words  noticeable  ;  they  have  a  tingo 


212  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

of  Platonism,  because  Platonism  cast  its  coloring  on  the 
language  of  common  life.  They  are  colored  by  that 
philosophy,  just  as  the  word  idea  in  the  English  lan- 
guage has  been  colored  by  the  philosophy  of  Locke, 
not  directly,  but  through  its  influence  on  the  popular 
dialect.  These  words,  and  the  rot?  Troiri^acn,  voov^eva 
(Romans  i.  20)  and  TO  Oelov  (Acts  xvii.  29),  are  the 
words  which  come  the  nearest  to  being  shaded  by  phi- 
losophy ;  I  have  no  doubt  the  word  voovfjieva  is  em- 
phatic, and  is  meant  to  express  the  action  of  reason 
in  its  supersensual  operations.  The  word  Xoyo?  too 
has  its  philosophic  double  meaning,  —  the  inward  and 
the  spoken  word,  the  thought  and  the  sign.  "O^eft?, 
appetitus.  The  two  words  6'o-to?  and  &£tcaio$  have  the 
usual  distinction  which  pervades  all  languages,  —  holi- 
ness and  justice.  IlaparripTja-^,  accurate  observation  ; 
7T€i(Tfj,ovr},  persuasio  ;  7re7ro/#??crt?,  confidence.  The  car- 
dinal word  faith,  Tr/crrt?,  persuasio  cum  fiducia,  has  an 
entirely  different  hue  in  the  sacred  writers  from  what 
it  has  in  philosophy  ;  it  comes  from  the  Hebrew ;  its 
meaning  and  its  bearing  are  to  be  sought  for  wholly 
in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures ;  it  corresponds  to  HJ'ION  ; 
the  Hebrew  meaning  prevails,  —  subjective  truth,  — 
the  influence  of  revealed  truth  on  the  heart.  IlpoOeo-i,?, 
purpose,  design  ;  <rv}jL/3i/3a£a),  —  a  word  remarkable  for 
its  intellectual  meaning,  and  for  its  remote  origin,  —  to 
glue  one  thing  to  another,  to  prove  by  a  chain  of  argu- 
ments ;  a-vvlrjfjLiy  to  understand ;  -^v^i/cos,  opposed  to 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  213 

These  are  some  of  the  most  important 
specimens  of  sacred  terminology  ;  they  are  all  remote 
from  analytic  nicety ;  they  are  taken  from  common 
life,  and  they  show  that  religion  can  be  taught  without 
the  mental  philosophy  with  which  it  has  been  too  often 
confounded. 

.To  this  catalogue  we  may  add  those  words  which 
are  purposely  comprehensive.  Discrimination  in  lan- 
guage advances  with  the  progress  of  thought.  We  are 
constantly  dividing  generic  words,  and  making  them 
more  specific.  But  our  Saviour  and  his  disciples  in 
their  choice  of  terms  are  hardly  up  to  the  age  in  which 
they  lived.  Religion  in  our  Saviour's  discourses  is 
Life,  Zwr\,  which  may  mean  spiritual  power,  spiritual 
influence,  holiness,  activity,  joy.  It  is  purposely  com- 
prehensive. 

I  have  said  that  metaphysics  differs  from  psychol- 
ogy. Let  me  explain  what  I  conceive  the  distinction 
to  be.  Metaphysics  aims  to  find  the  fixed,  invariable, 
certain,  incontestable,  elementary  idea.  It  professes  to 
stop  only  at  the  last  solution.  The  psychologist,  or 
writer  on  mental  analysis,  abandons  such  a  hopeless 
design.  He  wishes  only  to  give  us  an  analysis  of  the 
mind  which  shall  be  practical  because  it  is  relative  to 
the  improved  conception  of  others.  If  he  departs  from 
the  language  of  the  forum,  it  is  only  because  he  ex- 
pects the  forum  at  some  time  to  follow  him.  He  has 
not  the  least  thought  but  what  acuteness  may  make 


214  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

new  distinctions  and  divide  his  elements  into  new  com- 
ponent parts.  He  is  doing  what  the  chemist  does, — 
not  proving  to  a  certainty  he  has  found  the  last  ele- 
ment, but  only  relatively  the  last ;  that  is,  relative  to 
the  present  state  of  knowledge.  The  chemist  knows 
well  that  he  has  not  found,  and  never  can  be  sure  that 
he  has  found,  a  simple  which  may  not  in  the  process 
of  experiment  turn  out  to  be  a  compound.  We  may 
illustrate  it  by  the  atoms  of  Epicurus.  An  atom,  ac- 
cording to  the  system  of  Democritus,  is  a  section  which 
cannot  be  bisected.  Epicurus  allows  it  to  be  invisible. 
Now  suppose  two  men :  one  of  them  is  pulverizing  some 
friable  matter  in  order  to  find  the  finest  powder  that 
he  can.  use,  or  its  partial  identity  ;  the  other  is  pur- 
suing or  laboring  to  find  the  strict  philosophic  atom. 
Which  of  them  is  engaged  in  the  most  hopeless  task  ? 
The  one  resembles  the  mental  philosopher,  the  other 
the  metaphysician. 

Bishop  Berkeley  has  clearly  recognized  this  distinc- 
tion, though  himself  the  victim  to  the  error  he  so 
clearly  saw.  "  Time,  place,  and  motion,"  says  he, 
"  taken  in  particular  or  concrete,  are  what  everybody 
knows ;  but  having  passed  through  the  hands  of  a 
metaphysician,  they  become  too  abstract  and  fine  to  be 
apprehended  by  men  of  ordinary  sense.  Bid  your  ser- 
vant meet  you  at  such  a  time  and  such*  a  place,  and 
he  shall  never  stay  to  deliberate  on  the  meaning  of 
the  words.  In  conceiving  that  particular  time  and 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  215 

place,  or  the  motion  by  which  he  is  to  get  thither,  he 
finds  not  the  least  difficulty.  But  if  time  be  taken, 
exclusive  of  all  those  particular  actions  and  ideas  that 
diversify  the  day,  merely  for  the  continuation  of  exist- 
ence, or  duration  in  abstract,  then  it  will  perhaps  gravel 
even  a  philosopher  to  comprehend  it."  (Principles  of 
Human  Knowledge,  Part  I.  Sect.  97.) 

Let  me,  however,  be  understood.  I  by  no  means 
intend  to  say  that  the  psychologist  as  well  as  the 
metaphysician  does  not  mean  to  depart  from  the  loose- 
ness of  popular  language,  and  both  of  them  may  have 
the  same  terminus  in  their  minds.  But  herein  they 
differ ;  the  psychologist  allows  the  end  of  his  anal- 
ysis to  be  at  an  infinite  distance  from  perfection ;  his 
object  is  never  to  lose  sight  of  the  relative ;  his  object 
is  always  practical,  and  he  attempts  to  analyze  no  fur- 
ther than  he  can  take  the  thinking  world  with  him. 
When  he  departs  from  the  forum  he  expects  to  stop, 
not  only  sljort,  but  infinitely  short,  of  the  metaphysi- 
cian's goal;  whereas  the  metaphysician  (perhaps  half 
unconsciously  to  himself)  expects  to  reach  the  goal. 
He  will  untwist  the  thread  to  the  last  filament,  and 
present  it  to  our  admiring  eyes.  He  is  essentially  an- 
alytic, and  he  means  that  his  analysis  shall  be  final. 

There  is  another  point  in  which  I  conceive  they 
differ.  The  psychologist  regards  his  analysis  as  found, 
to  be  sure,  on  lines  drawn  by  nature,  but  not  the  only 
lines.  He  chooses  those  which  he  conceives  to  be  the 


216  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

most  useful.  He  pays  great  attention  to  the  distinc- 
tions handed  down  to  him  from  past  generations.  In 
a  word,  he  regards  his  departments  of  mind  and  the 
consequent  terminology  very  much  as  we  regard  the 
division  of  counties  in  Massachusetts,  sometimes  arbi- 
trary, sometimes  natural ;  sometimes  the  boundary  lines 
following  a  river  or  a  range  of  hills,  but  by  no  means 
excluding  the  possibility  of  another  division,  and  made 
principally  on  the  grounds  of  political  utility.  But 
the  metaphysician  regards  his  lines  of  analysis  as  fun- 
damental, essential,  eternal.  They  are"  foredrawn  by 
nature,  —  he  has  only  discovered  them.  Blot  them 
out,  or  question  them,  you  disturb  his  whole  system. 
His  terminology  is  the  voice  of  Nature  ;  his  discoveries 
are  drawn  from  her  deepest  recess. 

There  is  another  difference.  The  metaphysician  does 
not  allow  that  an  idea  or  mental  impression  should 
be  regarded  as  an  image,  or  proof  of  a  corresponding 
object  in  the  outward  world.  Hence  he  feels  himself 
obliged  elaborately  to  account  for  his  ideal  system  and 
its  correspondence  with  outward  causes.  The  object- 
ive and  the  subjective  with  him  are  at  everlasting  war ; 
and  while  he  is  ambitious  to  prove  all  things,  failing 
in  his  attempt,  he  falls  into  universal  scepticism ;  or,  if 
he  does  not  reach  this  point,  he  is  inconsistent,  —  he 
mixes  proofs  and  assumptions  together;  just  as  Locke 
often  passes  over  the  point  you  wish  him  to  prove, 
and  proves  that  of  which  you  never  thought  of  doubt- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  217 

ing.  Now  the  psychologist  ignores  or  passes  by  all  these 
difficulties ;  he  is  contented  with  a  probable  assump- 
tion. He  knows  that  his  terminology  may  be  floating 
and  his  discoveries  relative.  To  him  probability  is 
the  foundation  of  his  system  as  Veil  as  "  the  guide  of 
life."  * 

It  must  be  allowed  that  the  psychologist  is  very  apt 
to  degenerate  (perhaps  I  should  say  soar)  into  the  met- 
aphysician. He  would  hardly  write  his  book  if  he  did 
not  in  some  degree  depart  from  the  diction  of  the 
forum.  The  question  is,  Where  shall  he  stop  ?  In 
his  anxiety  to  be  as  subtle  and  as  perfect  as  the  case 
demands,  he  is  tempted  to  grasp  at  intangible  objects 
and  pursue  unintelligible  distinctions.  Thus  the  moral 
philosopher  is  sometimes  lost  in  the  fogs  of  the  meta- 
physician. We  can  best  make  our  distinction  clear  by 
examples.  The  writers  who  have  best  seen  their  own 
boundaries,  and  pursued  accuracy  without  plunging 
into  useless  subtilties,  are  Augustine,  Pascal,  Baxter, 
Hutcheson,  and,  above  all,  Bishop  Butler. 

The  impossibility  of  any  finished  system  of  meta- 
physics is  indicated  many  ways.  First,  by  the  very 
nature  of  the  subject,  it  seeks  the  ideal  perfect,  —  the 
fixed,  the  absolute.  Wherever  it  begins,  it  is  driven 
to  this  line.  Secondly,  it  demands  an  account  of,  and 
a  demonstration  of  the  correspondence  between,  the 
ideal  and  outward  world,  which  is  found  impossible  ; 

#  Introduction  to  Butler's  Analogy. 

10 


218  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

Thirdly,  it  forgets  the  weakness  of  the  human  faculties. 
Fourthly,  it  postulates  a  whole  system,  the  one  in  the 
many,  the  many  from  the  one,  which  can  be  known 
only  by  omniscience.  Fifthly,  the  history  of  its  specu- 
lations shows  the  impossibility  of  its  aims.  No  system 
ever  lasts,  it  exists  only  to  be  overthrown ;  and  neces- 
sary truth  to  one  man  is  an  absurdity  to  another.  The 
comments  that  the  acutest  minds  make  on  the  acutest 
are  severe,  contradictory,  and  astonishing.  Sixthly,  a 
system  is  often  proved  by  the  most  irrefragable  argu- 
ments, which  every  rational  man  sees  to  be  false.  As 
Hume  says  of  Berkeley's  speculations,  "  They  admit  of 
no  answer  and  produce  no  conviction."  Berkeley's 
Essay  on  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge  is  an 
astonishing  example.  The  writer  is  honest,  the  prem- 
ises are  strong,  the  argument  is  safe,  and  the  conclu- 
sion is  irresistible  ;  and  yet  who  can  believe  what  he 
sees  irrefutably  proved.  The  book  is  a  wonderful  ex- 
ample of  an  IMPOSSIBILITY  DEMONSTRATED  ;  and,  finally, 
the  science  existing  for  more  than  two  thousand  years, 
employing  the  minds  of  the  most  ingenious  artists, 
shows  not  the  smallest  tendency  to  a  result.  Nothing 
is  settled ;  its  negative  power  is  strong,  its  affirmative 
nothing ;  it  still  continues  to  roll  the  same  turbid 
stream  to  a  sea  as  turbid  as  itself.  Indeed,  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  most  matchless  metaphysician  of  our 
age  has  put  the  only  termination  possible  to  these 
investigations,  when  he  says :  "  We  are  wholly  igno- 


THE   MANUDUCTION.  219 

rant  of  existence  in  itself;  the  mind  knows  nothing 
except  in  parts,  by  quality  and  difference  and  rela- 
tions ;  consciousness  supposes  the  subject  distinguished 
from  the  object  of  thought ;  the  abstraction  of  this 
contrast  is  the  negation  of  consciousness ;  and  the 
negation  of  consciousness  is  the  annihilation  of  thought 
itself.  The  alternative,  therefore,  is  unavoidable;  either, 
finding  the  absolute,  we  lose  ourselves  ;  or,  retaining 
self  and  individual  consciousness,  we  do  not  reach  the 
absolute."  (Review  of  Cousin,  Edinburgh  Review,  Oct. 
1828.) 

It  is  a  fact,  which  perhaps  we  do  not  sufficiently 
notice,  that  logic  is  destructive  of  metaphysics,  —  the 
two  arts  cannot  subsist  together.  The  establishment 
of  logic  is  the  destruction  of  metaphysics.  How  is  it 
so  ?  Logic  deals  with  genus  and  species.  The  syllo- 
gism is  founded  on  this  arrangement  of  the  articles 
and  operations  of  nature.  But  how  do  we  make  this 
arrangement,  arid  on  what  principle  ?  It  is  done  very 
early,  and  before  we  are  aware  fully  of  the  principle 
on  which  it  is  done.  The  generic  or  specific  resem- 
blance by  which  we  arrange  our  conceptions  is  founded 
on  central  ideas, — central  kinds,  when  the  borders  are 
very  dark  and  indefinite.  Taking  the  centre  for  our 
original  division,  the  difference  is  very  clear  between 
a  dwarf  and  a  man,  a  shrub  and  a  tree,  a  hill  and 
a  mountain,  a  gulf  and  a  sea,  a  solid  and  a  fluid, 
an  animal  and  a  plant;  but  when  we  come  to  the 


220  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

border,  the  difference  fades  away ;  we  are  perplexed 
and  confounded.  Who  can  tell  or  trace  the  insensi- 
ble line  which  separates  the  infusoria  from  the  vege- 
tables among  which  they  swim  ? 

Now  metaphysics  delights  to  trace  these  borders  ;  she 
is  not  satisfied  with  the  popular  logic.  She  tells  you  at 
once  that  your  classification  is  a  bad  one ;  she  does  not 
understand  one  of  your  terms,  nor  accept  one  of  your 
deductions.  Tell  me,  she  says,  how  large  must  your 
dwarf  be  before  he  becomes  a  man  ?  which  is  the  sea, 
and  which  is  the  gulf?  Draw  your  immutable  line, 
and  give  me  the  absolute  idea.  Yes,  give  me  one  fixed 
notion,  with  which  all  others  must  harmonize,  and  I 
will  confess  the  possibility  of  science.  But  I  disdain 
your  confused  approximations  ;  I  will  not  consent  to 
wander  with  you  in  the  dark,  where  you  are  alike  igno- 
rant of  your  starting-point  and  your  goal.  Logical  de- 
duction supposes  a  previous  induction,  and  when  was 
that  induction  made  ?  When  you  only  knew  enough 
to  see  that  a  sheep  differed  from  a  horse,  and  that  all 
horses  and  sheep  were  alike. 

The  common  people  suppose  themselves  to  know  a 
thing  when  they  can  classify  it ;  that  is,  assign  its  place 
among  genus  and  species.  Present  any  individual  ob- 
ject to  them,  and  if  they  cannot  classify  it,  .they  say  it 
is  unknown ;  but  if  it  resemble  what  they  have  seen, 
they  can  always  find  its  place.  But  genus  and  species 
themselves  are  wholly  relative.  They  depend  on  exter- 


THE  MANUDUCTION.  221 

nal  resemblances,  and  relate  to  our  former  ideas.  Abso- 
lute ideas  in  this  department  have  no  place.  The  two 
sciences  of  logic  and  metaphysics  are  destructive  of 
each  other ;  if  the  one  is  established,  the  other  is  over- 
thrown. 

It  is  far  from  being  the  object  of  these  remarks  to  de- 
preciate the  study  of  metaphysics.  It  not  only  sharpens 
the  mind,  but  perhaps  there  are  no  writers  to  whom,  on 
the  ground  of  collateral  utility,  the  world  owes  so  much 
as  to  metaphysicians.  When  we  ask  directly  what  they 
have  discovered,  we  answer,  never  what  they  sought. 
They  uniformly  travel  a  road  that  leads  to  nothing.  But 
it  does  not  follow  that  their  speculations  have  been  use- 
less. In  the  first  place,  the  negative  discovery  is  vastly 
important.  Such  is  the  fascination  which  this  science 
presents  to  the  youthful  aspirant,  so  much  light  does 
it  promise  to  shed  on  his  own  being,  and  especially  on 
religion,  that  nothing  but  experience  —  investigation, 
and  close  investigation — can  convince  him  of  the  fallacy 
of  his  first  impressions  ;  and  then,  moreover,  the  igno- 
rance to  which  his  closest  investigations  lead  him  is  not 
the  ignorance  from  which  he  started.  The  ignorance 
of  experience  is  not  the  ignorance  of  inexperience. 
The  precise  ideas  which  he  has  been  seeking  serve  by 
contrast  to  show  the  nature  of  that  proximate  and  prob- 
able ground  on  which,  after  all  his  excursions,  his  soul 
must  rest.  We  know  all  things  by  contrast  and  com- 
parison. Of  those  absolute  ideas  which  the  metaphysi- 


222  THE  MANUDUCTION. 

cian  seeks,  we  know  two  things, —  we  know  they  must 
exist,  and,  secondly,  we  know  we  never  can  find  them. 
This  teaches  us  the  amplitude  of  knowledge,  and  gives 
us  a  lesson  of  humility.  Indeed,  when  we  consider 
what  a  fascination  metaphysical  speculation  has  held 
over  the  theologian,  metaphysics  must  be  taught  in 
order  to  cure  him  of  the  charm.  It  is  not  a  mere 
negative  discovery.  He  is  taught  the  difference  be- 
tween a  perfect  intellect  and  his  own ;  and  human 
knowledge  has  a  perfection  in  its  own  sphere,  when 
it  has  found  those  dread  limits  which  separate  the  eter- 
nal light  from  our  clearest  mental  vision.  Mr.  Locke 
has  said :  — 

"It  is  of  great  use  to  the  sailor  to  know  the  length 
of  his  line,  though  he  cannot  with  it  fathom  all  the 
depths  of  the  ocean.  It  is  well  to  know  that  it  is  long 
enough  to  reach  the  bottom  at  such  places  as  are  neces- 
sary to  direct  his  voyage,  and  caution  him  against  run- 
ning on  shoals  which  may  ruin  him.  Our  business 
here  is  not  to  know  all  things,  but  those  which  concern 
our  conduct."* 

*  Locke's  Essay,  Introduction,  Sect.  6. 


PAET    II. 


THE   VERSION. 


THE    VERSION. 


IN  the  following  translation  I  shall  impose  on  myself 
these  rules  :  — First,  to  be  as  literal  as  possible,  but  not 
so  literal  as  not  to  aim  to  give  the  parallel  meaning ;  for 
the  meaning  of  the  Bible  is  the  Bible.  I  shall  endeavor 
to  give  not  only  the  meaning,  but  to  preserve  the  poetic 
and  moral  shading,  so  that  a  word  or  a  metaphor  may 
give  the  same  impression  now  as  to  the  primitive  read- 
ers. This  is  my  aim,  though  I  am  conscious  that  the 
attainment  is  scarcely  possible.  I  shall  not  shun  the 
old  translation  where  I  find  nothing  to  alter,  —  and 
some  parts  of  it,  I  confess,  are  matchless  and  inimita- 
ble,—  as  the  description  of  spring,  chap.  ii.  8-13,  and 
of  the  lost  interview,  chap.  v.  2-6.  These  have  always 
appeared  to  me,  like  Shakespeare's  piece  of  prose  in 
Hamlet  (Act  II.  Scene  2), —  "This  goodly  frame,  the 
earth,  seems  to  me  a  sterile  promontory,  this  most 
excellent  canopy,  the  air,"  &c.  —  to  be  magical  out- 
bursts of  felicity,  both  in  thought  and  language,  which 
all  must  admire,  and  none  can  hope  to  mend.  I 
shall  abandon  the  method  adopted  since  the  days  of 

o 


226  THE   VERSION. 

Lowth,  of  giving  broken  lines,  because  it  offers  a  show 
of  poetry  which  the  performance  does  not  justify,  and 
therefore  lays  a  trap  for  the  reader's  dissatisfaction. 
These  broken  lines  are  like  the  forms  in  Egyptian 
coffins,  ghastly  forms  of  a  life  that  does  not  exist ;  they 
indicate  neither  measure  nor  rhyme,  and  they  lure  the 
reader  to  expect  either  the  one  or  the  other.  Only 
think  of  these  words  passing  for  measured  poetry !  — 

"THE  BURDEN  OF  DCMAH. 

"  He  calleth  to  me  out  of  Seir,  — 

Watchman,  what  of  the  night, 
Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ? 
The  watchman  said, 

The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night ; 
If  ye  will  inquire,  inquire  ye  : 
Return,  come." 

Surely  such  poetry  reminds  one  of  Dr.  Johnson's  bur- 
lesque line,  — 

"  Lay  your  knife  and  your  fork  across  your  plate." 

If  the  reader  will  count  his  fingers,  he  will  find  that 
all  his  fingers  and  his  thumbs  on  both  hands  exactly 
correspond  to  the  number  of  syllables  in  this  beautiful 
line,  and  in  this  respect  it  is  as  good  as  any  line  found 
in  Pope's  Iliad  or  Milton's  Paradise  Lost ;  nay,  it  is 
better,  for  many  a  line  in  these  great  poets  must  be 
saved  from  false  quantity  by  an  ecthlipsis,  or  synaeresis, 
or  some  other  grammatical  device  ;  and  in  this  way  I 
have  no  doubt  that  President  Buchanan's  last  message 


THE   VERSION.  227 

can  be  turned  into  surprising  poetry.  But  surely  the 
prophet  intended  no  such  device.  The  Hebrews  had 
the  elements  of  poetry  in  them,  but  not  ripened  in  its 
modes,  nor  polished  into  its  subsequent  perfection. 
Let  us  leave  them  in  their  native  simplicity,  and  not 
make  them  answerable  for  promises  which  they  never 
will  fulfil,  because  in  fact  they  never  made  them. 

As  to  the  notes,  I  am  anxious  to  show  that  this  Song 
of  Songs  has  a  constant  practical  lesson,  a  lesson  which 
could  be  taught  in  its  force  and  beauty  in  no  other  way. 
I  wish  to  show  that  a  pious  reader  with  a  congenial  taste 
may  find  matter  of  improvement,  not  only  from  the 
whole,  but  from  the  compact  parts.  In  showing  this,  I 
impose  upon  myself  these  restrictions  :  not  to  be  wire- 
drawing; not  to  force  out  a  latent  meaning,  —  not  to 
torture  language,  or  violate  common  sense ;  not  to  fall 
into  the  track  of  the  Jewish  or  Christian  mystics  on  the 
one  hand,  and  on  the  other  to  shun,  as  I  would  a  syrtis, 
the  sensualism  or  the  literalism  of  such  writers  as  Gro- 
tius,  and  Dr.  Noyes  of  our  own  country.  I  blame  not 
these  men  ;  they  are  scholars,  and  faithful  perhaps  to 
their  own  light.  But  they  could  not  understand  such 
a  book  as  this.  There  was  not  a  responsive  fibre  in 
them.*  The  great  difficulty  is  in  the  first  step.  Is 

#  There  was  a  man  in  a  neighboring  town,  some  sixty  years  ago,  a 
very  worthy  citizen,  who  was  very  indifferent  to  appropriating  any  money 
for  the  improvement  of  sacred  music.  He  was  not  more  avaricious  than 
the  rest  of  his  neighbors.  Everybody  wondered  at  his  reluctance.  He  at 


228  THE  VEESION. 

the  book  a  spiritual  allegory  ?  If  it  is,  the  higher  in- 
terpretation follows  of  course.  Now  I  do  not  pledge 
myself  to  find  an  articulate  meaning,  in  every  part,  to 
the  reader's  satisfaction.  But  such  is  my  aim.  I  am 
more  clear  as  to  the  general  design  of  this  song,  than 
I  am  as  to  its  particular  application ;  but  I  am  not 
without  hope,  that,  without  borrowing  the  robe  of  Philo 
or  Origen,  I  may  find,  under  the  luxurious  dress,  an 
obvious  —  at  least  a  probable  —  application  for  every 
period.  These  last,  like  branches  of  a  noble  tree,  grow 
out  of  the  original  design. 


THE  GOLDEN  SONG  OF  SOLOMON. 

SOLOMITIS. 

Let  HIM  greet  me  with  a  kiss  from  his  sacred  mouth, 
WHOSE  love  is  sweeter  than  wine. 

Let  us  pause  a  little  on  this  important  verse.  It 
opens  the  whole  subject,  it  strikes  the  key-note,  and 
demands  our  attention.  We  must  not  stumble  at  the 
threshold.  It  is  to  be  understood  by  the  help  of  the 
emphasis,  and  under  the  shadow  of  that  emphasis  I 

last  told  the  secret.  "  I  never  yet,"  said  he,  "  could  see  any  use  in  culti- 
vated music.  All  we  want  is  a  little  joyful  noise.  For  my  part,"  added 
he,  "  the  falling  of  a  shovel  on  the  hearth,  provided  it  rings  well,  or  the 
rattling  of  a  pair  of  tongs  in  a  brass  kettle,  is  as  good  music  as  I  ever 
desire  to  hear." 


THE    VERSION.  229 

have  ventured  to  insert  the  word  sacred,  as  indicating 
the  person  and  the  nature  of  the  salutation.  I  suppose 
the  words  to  be  spoken  by  the  espoused  one  in  the 
very  spirit  with  which  Mary  Magdalene  addressed  her 
risen  Saviour :  "But  Mary  stood  without  at  the  sep- 
ulchre weeping ;  and  as  she  wept,  she  stooped  down 
and  looked  into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  two  angels 
in  white,  sitting,  the  one  at  the  head  and  the  other 
at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain.  And 
they  say  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  She 
saith  unto  them,  Because  they  have  taken  away  my 
Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him. 
And  when  she  had  thus  said,  she  turned  herself  back, 
and  saw  Jesus  standing,  and  knew  not  that  it  was  Je- 
sus. Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou? 
Whom  seekest  thou  ?  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the 
gardener,  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne  him 
hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will 
take  him  away."  (John  xx.  11-15.)  Now  the  latter 
part  of  this  speech  has  been  greatly  admired.  Three 
times  the  pronoun  is  used  without  a  consciousness  of 
the  absence  of  the  antecedent.  Her  heart  is  so  full 
that  she  supposes  every  one  must  know  who  she  means 
by  HIM.  So,  in  the  abrupt  beginning  of  this  book, 
there  is  but  one  antecedent  to  which  the  pious  mind 
can  recur.  The  sacred  kiss  can  come  from  none  but 
the  Heavenly  Bridegroom.  The  ellipsis  is  impressive 
and  significant. 


230  THE   VEESION. 

But  wine  and  tokens  of  love  fill  the  first  strain  of 
the  poem !  If  we  may  suppose  these  words  first  to  be 
put  into  the  mouth  of  some  rustic  beauty,  espoused 
to  King  Solomon,  the  ellipsis  is  natural  and  impres- 
sive. To  be  taken  from  her  native  vale,  and  from  an 
idolatrous  nation,  and  to  be  preferred  by  such  a  wise 
and  holy  king,  must  have  given  an  interest  to  any 
salutation  she  might  receive,  and  Solomon  must  have 
filled  her  heart.  Going  up  to  the  holy  city  must  have 
given  a  religious  interest  to  her  unusual  nuptials.  But 
this  was  only  a  stepping-stone.  God  had  a  deeper  de- 
sign ;  the  fact  was  significant ;  and  the  same  God  who 
could  make  a  dream  or  a  name  a  symbol  of  prophecy 
could  make  this  union  a  foreshadowing  of  the  union 
of  the  Gentile  church  with  its  Redeemer. 

But  then  the  sensuality  of  wine  and  love !  Why 
use  these  as  images  of  the  purest  passion  that  can 
actuate  the  heart  ?  Why  dress  piety  in  such  wanton 
robes  ?  Because  in  that  age,  and  in  all  ages,  certain 
minds  have  sought  such  images  to  express  the  break- 
ings of  the  heart.  It  has  been  delightful  to  some 
nations,  and  to  all  ardent  minds,  to  picture  devotional 
feeling  in  erotic  poetry.  If  a  colder  criticism  should 
oppose  it,  it  would  be  like  quenching  the  conflagra- 
tion of  a  burning  city  with  a  few  flakes  of  falling 
snow.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  whence  this  proclivity 
arises. 

First,  the  glowing  mind,  intense  in  its  feeling,  looks 


THE   VERSION.  231 

round  for  adequate  expressions,  and  finds  them  here. 
Nature  is  too  strong  for  art.  We  are  told  that,  when 
Madame  Guyon  wrote  her  ardent  poetry,  it  was  in 
vain  that  the  celebrated  Bishop  of  Meaux  exposed 
her  doctrines  with  all  the  powers  of  his  wit,  aided 
by  all  the  splendor  of  his  eloquence.  He  only  in- 
creased the  flame.  His  criticism  probably  never  abated 
the  lusciousness  of  a  single  expression. 

Secondly,  the  mystic  feels  a  secret  satisfaction  in 
triumphing  over  the  tainting  influence  of  the  figures. 
The  unconsciousness  (of  which  it  is  half  conscious  at 
least)  is  pleasing.  The  rapid  application  of  the  figure 
to  the  higher  subject  is  a  testimony  to  the  mind  of 
its  own  purity. 

Thirdly,  the  satisfaction  of  finding  the  resemblance 
in  the  remote.  The  contrast  is  great.  The  rich  treas- 
ure is  deeply  hid. 

Lastly,  such  similitudes  take  our  whole  nature  with 
them.  They  familiarize  the  mystic  and  ennoble  the 
familiar.  They  elevate  the  natural  propensity  into  a 
divine  one.  As  the  incarnation  of  Christ  unites  the 
definiteness  of  a  mortal  conception  with  the  sublimity 
of  a  divine  one,  so  this  union  takes  the  whole  strength 
of  our  minds  and  our  hearts,  and  gives  double  ardor 
to  the  compound  passion.  All  the  fire  of  a  mortal 
love  joins  with  the  purity  of  the  divine  to  increase 
the  outflow  of  the  soul.  No  wonder  that  such  repre- 
sentations should  be  so  fascinating. 


232  THE   YEESION. 

Perhaps  the  mortal  passion  itself  has  a  deeper  sig- 
nification than  at  first  appears.  Perhaps  the  rant  and 
raptures  of  love  were  designed  to  show  us  how  false 
and  fair  our  first  idols,  and  how  true  the  beauty  to 
which  our  disappointment  turns  us.  Perhaps  Otway 
may  teach  us  divinity :  — 

"  O  woman,  lovely  woman,  nature  made  you 
To  temper  man  :  we  had  been  brutes  without  you ; 
Angels  are  painted  fair  to  look  like  you ; 
There 's  in  you  all  that  we  believe  of  heaven, 
Amazing  brightness,  purity,  and  truth, 
Eternal  joy,  and  everlasting  love." 

It  teaches  us,  at  least,  that  the  passions  justify  them- 
selves by  borrowing  and  imputing  perfection.  So  Vir- 
gil:- 

"  Quis  novus  hie  nostris  successit  sedibus  hospes ! 
Quern  sese  ore  ferens  !  quam  forti  pectore,  et  armis  ! 
Credo  equidem,  nee  vana  fides,  genus  esse  deorum." 

No  one  can  read  Rousseau's  New  Eloise  without 
thinking  of  the  strength  of  the  passion  and  the  frailty 
of  its  earthly  foundation.  A  novelist  always  substi- 
tutes the  indefinite  for  the  eternal.  He  conducts  his 
afflicted  pair  to  social  happiness  not  terminated,  and 
there  leaves  them ;  just  as  a  painter,  not  able  to  pic- 
ture an  infinite  road,  makes  it  wind  round  a  hill,  and 
leaves  the  spectator's  fancy  to  finish  what  the  power 
of  his  limited  pencil  could  only  begin. 

The  spirit  of  this  paragraph  is  clear.     It  supposes  a 


THE   VERSION.  233 

mind  so  full  of  Christ  that  an  elliptical  pronoun  sug- 
gests him.  It  turns  away  from  all  earthly  attractions 
to  seek  some  token  of  his  love.  Let  him  own  me  as 
his,  and  fill  my  soul  with  his  love,  and  it  is  all  I  ask. 
My  obedience  is  secured  when  I  find  my  chief  happi- 
ness in  his  service  ;  when  his  love  is  sweeter  than  wine, 
i.  e.  all  sensual  good.  Under  another  figure  the  same 
sentiment  is  expressed,  chap.  viii.  6 :  "  Set  me  as  a  seal 
upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thy  arm ;  for  love  is 
strong  as  death." 

We  may  give  a  specimen  how  these  sentiments  might 
appear  in  a  modern  dress  :  — 

"  From  all  the  enchantments  of  time, 

"Where  bitterness  waits  on  desire, 
Where  pleasure  is  blended  with  crime, 

And  love  is  a  vanishing  fire, 
I  turn  to  the  Bridegroom  above, 

Whose  looks  can  such  sweetness  impart, 
Whose  kiss  can  our  passions  improve, 

Because  it  encounters  the  heart.* 

"  I  am  weary  with  phantoms  that  fade,  — 

They  cause  me  to  weep  and  repine  ; 
I  would  be  in  His  garments  arrayed 

Whose  love  is  much  better  than  wine. 
When  the  heart  from  its  idols  is  loosed, 

And  the  soul  for  its  tenant  makes  room, 
Then  his  name  is  like  ointment  effused, 

Affording  the  richest  perfume." 

*  "  The  hearts  of  princes  kiss  obedience."  —  King  Henry  VIII,  Act  3, 
Scene  1. 


234  THE  VEKSION. 

SOLOMITIS  still  speaks.    (Verses  3,  4,  5,  6.) 

Thy  ointments  have  a  delicate  flavor ;  thy  name  is  like  oint- 
ment effused.  Therefore  the  virgins  love  thee.  Draw  me ; 
we  will  gladly  follow.  The  king  has  brought  me  into  his  con- 
clave ;  and  there  we  will  heartily  rejoice.  We  will  praise  his 
love  more  than  wine.  The  good  love  thee.  I  am  dark,  but 
fair ;  dark  like  the  tents  of  Kedar ;  fair  like  the  curtains  of 
Solomon.  O  daughter  of  Jerusalem,  —  do  not  scorn  me  be- 
cause I  am  dark  ;  't  is  my  native  sun.  My  native  people 
were  angry  with  me;  they  appointed  me  to  keep  the  vine- 
yards; but  while  I  kept  their  vineyards,  I  lost  my  own, — 
i.  e.  my  heart. 

In  the  first  place,  let  us  regard  the  historical  mean- 
ing. It  is  the  address  of  a  rustic  girl  to  a  refined  king. 
She  is  a  fair  brunette,  —  just  what  we  should  expect 
from  an  Arab  tribe.  She  has  ointments  preparatory 
to  her  exaltation  ;  just  as  Esther  was  purified  to  go  in 
to  the  king ;  "  for  so  were  the  days  of  their  purification 
accomplished,  to  wit,  six  months  with  oil  of  myrrh,  and 
six  months  with  sweet  odors  and  with  other  things  for 
the  purification  of  the  women."  (Esther  ii.  12.)  Let 
us  suppose,  then,  King  Solomon  to  have  had  a  mingled 
motive  in  espousing  this  Sheik's  daughter,  —  partly  the 
extension  of  true  religion,  partly  empire,  and  partly 
personal  glory ;  she  has  native  charms  and  a  wild  cul- 
tivation. Suppose  he  affords  her  the  sweet-scented 
unguents,  and  prepares  her  for  his  own  seraglio. 
What  a  perfect  fact  to  shadow  out  a  higher  union  in 


THE  VERSION.  235 

the  admission  of  the  Gentile  Church,  the  gratitude 
and  love  which  would  glow  in  her  heart,  and  the 
purer  piety  which  would  at  once  pave  the  way  and 
follow  that  event.  It  was  not  merely  a  figure ;  it  was 
partly  a  specimen. 

And  then  the  wisdom  hehind  the  mortal  council, 
and  overruling  the  fact  to  its  own  designs  !  This  was 
charming  to  a  Hebrew  mind.  It  is  no  more  than  what 
the  poet  has  said :  — 

"  There 's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will." 

This,  then,  is  the  unforced  lesson,  certainly  unforced 
when  you  have  got  over  the  difficulty  of  admitting  the 
allegory.  I  merely  hint. 

"  0  let  me  have  conscious  communion  with  God ; " 
or,  to  translate  it  into  a  proposition:  "It  is  a  privilege 
to  feel  in  my  heart  that  he  loves  me,  for  then  I  shall 
love  him ; "  or,  to  reverse  the  proposition :  "  When  I 
feel  that  I  love  him,  I  know  that  he  loves  me." 

And  for  this,  Divine  attraction  is  necessary  (see  fourth 
verse) ;  we  should  pray  for  it.  This  simple  passage 
tells  the  great  secret;  how  to  get  a  will  for  virtue,  —  a 
question  which  has  always  perplexed  the  sensual  man. 
It  is  by  prevenient  grace.  "  Draw  me  ;  we  will  run 
after  thee."  "No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the 
Father  which  hath  sent  me  draw  him."  (John  vi.  44.) 

Now,  I  ask,  admitting  the  allegory  running  through 


236  THE  VERSION. 

the  poem  (and  unless  you  do  admit  it  you  plunge  from 
the  sublime  mountain  into  the  muddy  ditch  that  stag- 
nates at  its  base),  is  this  meaning  arbitrary  ?  Is  it  un- 
natural? *Is  it  forced?  Is  it  not  all  but  necessary? 

CHAR  I.  7-17. 
SOLOMITIS. 

Tell  me,  O  beloved  one,  where  thou  feedest  thy  flocks ;  where 
is  thy  noontide  shade.  Why  should  I  wander  among  other 
folds? 

SOLOMON. 

If  you  know  not,  O  thou  most  beautiful  of  women,  trace 
the  footsteps ;  feed  thy  kids  near  the  shepherds'  tents.  I  com- 
pare you,  O  my  loved  one,  to  the  horses  of  Pharaoh's  char- 
iots. How  graceful  are  thy  cheeks  among  thy  chains,  thy 
neck  with  its  necklace!  We  have  prepared  for  you  golden 
collars  with  silver  stars. 

SOLOMITIS. 

While  the  king  sits  in  his  circle,  my  nard  diffuses  its  odor. 
A  bundle  of  myrrh  is  my  beloved  to  me ;  he  shall  rest  in  my 
inmost  heart.  A  cluster  of  copher  is  my  beloved  to  me  in  the 
gardens  of  Engedi. 

SOLOMON. 

O  thou  art  fair,  my  love,  thou  art  very  fair,  with  eyes  look- 
ing the  dove.  Yes,  thou  art  beautiful,  divinely  beautiful ;  while 
our  nuptial  couch  is  the  rural  grove.  The  cedar-trees  are  the 
only  beams  to  our  house,  —  our  only  rafters  are  the  branches 
over  us. 


THE  VERSION,  237 

Here,  I  think,  we  have  indications  of  the  historico- 
literal  and  the  mystico-spiritual.  It  is  impossible  to 
be  sure  as  to  the  meaning  of  such  imperfect  hints ; 
for  the  whole  poem  is  a  succession  of  hints  with  a 
chasm  of  ellipsis  between.  The  first  speech,  —  "Tell 
me,  0  thou  loved  One!  where  thou  feedest  thy  flock," 
<fec., —  may  be  a  natural  mistake  of  the  rural  lass  on 
her  first  union  with  the  king,  or  it  may  be  the  king 
went  into  her  country  to  rusticate,  or  it  may  be  an 
allegorical  expression  by  which  she  signifies  that  the 
king  is  a  shepherd  and  his  kingdom  is  a  flock.  What- 
ever it  be,  it  is  a  wish  for  love  and  communion ;  and 
the  next  verses  are  the  language  of  encouragement 
from  a  superior :  "  You  say  you  are  black,  and  yet 
you  hope  you  are  fair.  I  compare  you  to  the  most 
polished  and  precious  objects,  —  to  Pharaoh's  chariot. 
I  will  load  you  with  every  ornament,"  &c.,  &c. 

But  what,  is  the  higher  meaning  ?  Sure,  it  is  obvi- 
ous. Christ  has  selected-  human  nature  from  its  state 
of  degradation  and  corruption,  and  he  sees  every  beauty 
in  it  through  the  comeliness  he  puts  upon  it.  As  there 
is  something  remarkably  beautiful  in  supposing  a  re- 
fined king,  like  Solomon,  dwelling  in  such  a  house  as 
described  in  1  Kings  vii.,  going  into  the  country,  dwell- 
ing in  a  tent,  with  the  cedar-trees  murmuring  over 
him;  so  when  the  greater  than  Solomon  condescends 
to  adopt  the  Gentile  sinners,  beautify  their  hearts,  and 
seeing  the  beauty  that  he  has  imparted,  the  parallel  is 


238  THE   VERSION. 

complete.     Then,  too,  the  humblest  scenes   are   beau- 
tiful with  the  presence  of  Christ. 

CHAP.  II.  1-7. 

SOLOMITIS. 
I  am  but  a  wild  flower  of  the  field,  a  lily  of  the  valley. 

SOLOMON. 

Yes,  but  as  the  lily  among  the  briers,  so  is  my  beloved 
among  other  women. 

SOLOMITIS. 

As  the  apple-tree  among  the  woodland  shades,  so  is  my  be- 
loved among  the  youth ;  under  his  shade  I  sat  and  still  de- 
sire to  sit,  and  his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste.  He  led  me 
to  the  nuptial  room ;  his  banner  over  me  was  —  Love.  I  faint 
—  I  languish  in  love.  Restore  me  with  grape-cakes ;  re- 
cover me  with  apples.  His  left  hand  is  under  my  head ;  his 
right  enfolds  me.  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  I  adjure  you  by 
the  roes  and  gazelles  of  the  country,  that  you  disturb  not 
my 'loved  One,  nor  recall  him  to  the  city  until  he  chooses. 

This  whole  speech  belongs  to  the  bride,  as  we  have 
given  it.  She  is  showing  that  she  knows  how  to  ap- 
preciate her  lover-king  as  well  as  her  rivals  of  the 
city.  It  is  impossible  to  translate  the  fourth  verse  by 
a  mere  translation.  I  think  the  house  of  wine  was  the 
nuptial-room,  and  the  banner  was  the  flag  intended  for 
the  caravan  which  was  to  carry  her  up  to  Jerusalem. 
So  that  the  sentiment  in  the  historical  part  is  :  "  He  has 


THE  VERSION.  239 

already  adopted  me.  I  see  the  scene;  the  nuptial  ban- 
quet is  prepared ;  the  banner  waves ;  love  floats  in  its 
folds,  and  we  are  just  ready  to  depart.  He  will  own 
me  in  Jerusalem,  as  well  as  in  my  native  groves.  But 
amid  such  delightful  scenes,  I  have  no  haste  to  go. 
I  adjure  you,  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes  and 
hinds  of  my  native  fields,"  &c.,  <fec.  How  beautiful 
the  objects  by  which  she  swears !  the  semi-paganism  of 
the  oath,  too,  is  extremely  natural.  She  sheds  one  tear 
over  her  native  animals,  though  she  triumphs  in  go- 
ing. Longinus  has  praised  the  oath  of  Demosthenes, 
when  he  swore  by  those  that  fell  at  Marathon  ;  but 
this  adjuration  is  more  beautiful.  It  is  exactly  suit- 
able to  the  rustic  nymph  in  her  condition,  who  shows 
her  love  for  what  she  chooses  by  her  regrets  for  what 
she  leaves. 

Such  is  the  historical  part.  But  what  could  you  do 
with  it  applied  to  the  higher  purpose  ?  And  remember 
you  are  not  to  copy  Origen,  nor  to  be  a  reckless  mystic. 
It  seems  to  me,  if  it  is  really  an  allegory,  if  the  book 
has  a  latent  application,  the  word  is  nigh  thee,  in  thy 
heart  and  in  thy  mouth.  The  design  is  very  much 
the  same  as  that  of  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  and 
his  envious  brother.  Then  the  mingled  joy  and  humil- 
ity of  the  bride,  —  how  parallel  to  a  lost  soul  returning 
to  God !  The  genius  of  the  Gospel,  that  salvation  is 
by  grace,  was  never  better  illustrated  than  when  salva- 
tion was  sent  to  the  pagan  nations.  They  were  sunk 


240  THE  VERSION. 

in  corruption  ;  the  Jews  called  them  dogs,  exiles, 
wretches,  babes,  and  things  which  were  not,  that  is,  non- 
entities in  religion,  and  yet  the  purest  manifestation 
of  religion  was  sent  to  them.  The  murmuring  of 
the  oldest  son,  in  the  parable  before  alluded  to  (Luke 
xvii.),  shows  how  long  the  self-righteous  objection 
lingered  even  in  a  sober  mind. 

If  I  were  discoursing  on  the  gracious  spirit,  on  hu- 
mility, on  a  humble  trust,  on  the  hope  of  a  soul  sealed 
to  its  Saviour,  I  should  not  hesitate  to  quote  the  speech 
of  the  bride  :  "  I  am  but  a  wild  flower  of  the  field."  I 
am  sorry  in  this  translation  to  lose  the  specific  definite- 
ness  of  the  original ;  but  I  know  not  any  plant  which 
would  produce  the  instantaneous  recognition  in  the 
English  reader's  mind  necessary  to  the  beauty  and 
effect  of  the  original.  I  might  have  said,  I  am  a  wild 
rose,  —  I  am  a  harebell,  —  I  am  a  sprig  of  white- 
weed  ;  but  these  would  be  false  translations,  and  would 
not  produce  the  intended  effect.  I  am  forced  to  lose 
much  in  being  general.  Let  the  reader  imagine  any 
late,  unusual,  modestly  beautiful,  or  rustic  flower  of  a 
native  land,  like  the  shamrock  to  the  Irish  or  the  na- 
tive thistle  to  the  Scotch,  and  use  it  for  the  emblem. 

CHAP.  II.  8-17. 

SOLOMITIS. 

Hark,  —  it  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved  ;  it  is  he ;  he  comes  ; 
he  comes  leaping  on  the  mountains,  —  bounding  over  the  hills. 


THE  VERSION.  241 

My  beloved  is  like  a  hart  or  a  wild-goat.  Lo !  he  is  there  ; 
standing  behind  our  wall,  showing  himself  through  our  win- 
dows, peeping  through  the  wicker-work.  My  beloved  spake 
and  said  unto  me,  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come 
away.  For  lo !  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone. 
The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth ;  the  time  of  the  singing  of 
the  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our 
land.  The  fig-tree  putteth  forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines 
and  the  tender  grape  give  a  good  smell.  Arise,  my  love,  my 
fair  one,  and  come  away. 

We  may  suppose  some  time  to  have  elapsed  between 
the  utterance  of  the  last  paragraph  and  the  occasion  of 
this.  The  bride  had  gone  up  to  Jerusalem,  and  after 
a  stay  there  had  gone  back  to  the  country,  and  was  to 
remain  there  until  the  season  came  of  her  husband's 
rustication,  which  would  naturally  be  in  the  spring.  In 
that  cool  season,  when  the  weather  would  neither  be 
too  hot  nor  too  cold,  he  hears  her  distant  voice  in  the 
listening  ear  of  affection  :  "  Rise  up,  my  love,  <fcc.  For 
lo  !  the  winter  is  past,"  &c.  Something  like  this  might 
be  its  first  application. 

But  seasons  of  desertion  come  to  the  Christian,  sea- 
sons of  decline  to  the  Church,  —  a  wintry  state,  when 
iniquity  abounds,  and  the  love  of  many  waxes  cold. 
A  pious  instinct  almost  would  lead  them  to  adopt  this 
language  while  watching  and  finding  the  first  symp- 
toms of  returning  life  :  "  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair 

one,"  &c. 

11  P 


242  THE  VEESION. 

CHAP.  II.  14-17. 
SOLOMITIS. 

O  my  Dove,  let  me  hear  thy  voice,  though  in  the  recesses 
of  the  rock,  —  though  thou  art  up  the  deepest  ledges ;  let  me 
see  thy  form;  let  me  hear  thy  voice,  for  sweet  is  thy  voice, 
and  thy  form  is  beautiful.  Come,  my  love,  let  us  go  and  take 
the  foxes  ;  the  little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vineyard,  for  our  vine- 
yard is  yet  in  bloom.  My  beloved  is  mine  and  I  am  his,  while 
he  feeds  among  the  lilies,  —  i.  e.  stays  in  the  country,  acting 
the  shepherd  in  its  beautiful  scenes.  From  the  cool  of  the 
morning  until  the  shadows  are  stretched  upon  the  plain,  stay, 
my  love,  stay,  and  be  like  a  hart  or  a  roe  on  bur  secluded 
hills. 

Perhaps  the  most  difficult  passage  in -this  chapter  is 
the  15th  verse.  What  does  it  mean  historically,  and 
what  does  it  mean  spiritually  ?  The  knowing  of  the 
one  is  needful  to  the  knowing  of  the  other.  I  under- 
stand it  historically  as  a  beautiful  picture  of  the  sports 
and  employments  of  the  care-worn  king,  when  he  re- 
tired for  relaxation  to  the  rural  world.  The  wisest 
men  in  such  hours  are  ever  most  like  children.  It  is 
said  of  .Webster  that  he  was  a  perfect  boy  in  his  hours 
of  relaxation.  I  suppose  it  was  so  with  Solomon. 
Cicero  tells  us  of  the  Roman  heroes  who  loved  to  re- 
tire to  Cuma  and  gather  shells  on  the  shore.  These 
rords,  then,  are  an  expression  of  these  rural  employ- 
ments, by  which  the  bride  allures  her  husband  to  the 
mountains  and  the  vineyards.  Its  covered  meaning  is 


THE   VERSION.  243 

seen  on  the  veil.  It  signifies,  first,  that  the  spirit  of 
the  higher  type  of  religion  is  a  free  spirit ;  love  conse- 
crates as  well  as  lightens  everything.  Secondly,  that  it 
is  as  devout  in  its  recreations  as  its  duties.  "  Whether 
therefore  ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  ye  do,  do  all  to 
the  glory  of  God."  (1  Cor.  x.  31.)  Thirdly,  that  every 
condition  of  life  offers  it  a  sphere,  a  scope  for  culti- 
vation, —  the  rural  retirement  as  well  as  the  populous 
mart.  As  a  flower  bears  its  fragrance  to  whatever  vase 
the  owner  may  remove  it,  so  the  perfected  soul  bears 
its  influence  to  every  scene  it  occupies.  And  lastly, 
that  even  its  bounding  recreations  look  towards  utility, 
either  to  fit  the  person  for  future  toil,  or  to  make 
amusement  itself  conducive  to  some  profitable  end. 
"  Take  us  the-  foxes,  the  little  foxes  that  spoil  the 
vines"  The  end  is  useful,  though  the  employment  is 
recreation. 

If  any  one  smiles,  and  says  this  last  inference  is  wire- 
drawn,, let  him  consider  the  historical  application  of 
the  words  and  the  analogy. 

CHAP.  III.  1-11. 
SOLOMITIS. 

On  my  bed  by  night  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loves; 
I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not.  I  will  arise,  I  will  go 
round  the  city ;  I  will  seek  him  whom  I  Jove  in  the  squares 
and  in  the  streets.  I  sought  him,  but  I  did  not  find  him.  The 
keepers  of  the  city  met  me.  Have  you  seen,  said  I,  the  One 


244  THE  VERSION. 

whom  my  soul  loveth  ?  I  scarce  passed  them,  when  I  found 
him  whom  my  soul  loveth.  I  grasped  him,  I  would  not  let 
him  go,  until  I  brought  him  to  my  mother's  house,  into  her 
chamber  who  bore  me;  and  I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of 
Jesusalem,  by  the  roes  and  gazelles  of  the  field,  that  you  dis- 
turb not  his  repose,  nor  call  him  back  until  he  chooses. 

*  #  *  *  # 

Who  is  this  that  ascends  from  the  wilderness  like  a  column 
of  smoke,  like  the  incense  of  myrrh  and  Lebanon,  with  all 
the  aromatics  of  the  caravans.  Behold  the  palanquin  of  Sol- 
omon ;  surrounded  by  sixty  guardsmen,  brave  men  of  Israel, 
all  grasping  the  sword,  all  expert  in  war ;  each  one  with  his 
sword  on  his  thigh,  on  account  of  terrors  of  the  night.  King 
Solomon  made  himself  a  palanquin ;  wood  of  Lebanon,  col- 
umns of  silver,  a  golden  seat,  a  purple  cushion,  paved  by  a 
Love  better  than  that  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem.  Go, 
ye  nymphs  of  Sion,  go  and  see  your  king,  wearing  the  wreath 
which  his  [new  rural]  mother  wove  for  him,  in  the  day  of 
his  espousals  [to  her  daughter]  ;  in  the  day  of  his  gladness 
of  heart 

Several  things  are  here  to  be  noticed.  First,  the 
rapid  transitions ;  the  Song,  like  the  bridegroom  which 
is  its  subject,  goes  so  rapidly,  leaping  from  hill  to  hill, 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  preserve  the  train  of 
thought  in  a  mere  translation.  We  are  to  suppose  the 
espoused  one  to  project  herself  into  the  city,  into  the 
country,  according  to  the  varying  tenor  of  her  passion. 
By  night  in  the  country  she  things  of  her  absent  one. 
"  When  away  from  you,"  she  seems  to  say,  "  on  my 


THE  VERSION.  245 

bed  my  thoughts  were  fixed  upon  you."  She  then 
imagines  herself  in  the  city,  and  relates  the  incidents 
in  verses  third  and  fourth.  There  is  no  need  of  sup- 
posing it  a  dream,  —  it  may  be  accounted  for  by  'the 
vivacity  of  Eastern  thought.  The  striking  exclama- 
tion in  the  sixth  verse  has  been  attributed  to  a  cho- 
rus. There  is  no  need  of  introducing  a  chorus  ;  it 
hardly  comports  with  Eastern  simplicity.  The  excla- 
mation may  be  accounted  for  by  the  amazing  power 
of  an  excited  mind  to  project  itself  into  any  pleasing 
or  painful  situation.  She  is  suddenly  rapt  into  a  con- 
dition to  behold  the  spectacle,  and  asks  the  question, 
"Who  is  this  coming  from  the  wilderness?"  &c.  Sec- 
ondly, we  must  consider  the  opposition  between  the 
rustic  bride  and  the  polished  daughters  of  Jerusalem ; 
the  rivalry  is  everywhere  kept  up,  and  the  jealousy 
between  them  is  obvious,  and  an  important  item  in 
interpreting  the  book.  Thirdly,  I  would  remark  that 
no  chorus  is  necessary ;  all  those  passages  may  be  ac- 
counted for  by  the  amazing  activity  of  the  Eastern 
mind.  Their  very  thoughts  were  dramatic.  The  ques- 
tions which  have  been  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  cho- 
rus, I  consider  as  the  suppositions  of  an  excited  pas- 
sion, —  as  the  questions  which  an  inflamed  heart  may 
easily  ask  itself.  "  The  mother  of  Sisera  looked  out 
at  a  window  and  cried  through  the  lattice,  Why  is 
his  chariot  so  long  in  coming  ?  Why  tarry  the  wheels 
of  his  chariots  ?  Her  wise  ladies  answered  her,  yea, 


246  THE   VERSION. 

she  returned  answer  to  herself."  (Judges  v.  28,  29.) 
Formal  critics  often  go  too  far.  Paul  has  something  of 
the  dialogue  in  his  didactic  epistles,  and  Horace,  also, 
in  his  odes  and  satires  ;  but  it  has  always  appeared 
to  me  better  to  regard  these  dialogues  as  mental  rather 
than  real.  In  the  famous  one  in  Horace  between 
the  poet  and  Lydia  (Ode  IX.  Lib.  III.),  it  was  an 
imaginary  Lydia  that  spoke  to  him.  Passion  flies  on 
fiery  wings,  and  scorns  the  formalities  of  place  or  per- 
son. Then  the  Hebrews  had  hardly  recovered  from 
the  hieroglyphic  state,  and  to  a  primitive  people  with 
an  infant  language  rapid  transitions  are  almost  neces- 
sary. Fourthly,  it  is  remarkable  that  the  bride,  though 
earnestly  seeking,  does  not  find  her  mate  BY  SEEKING  ; 
it  is  always  good  luck.  This  I  consider  as  an  impor- 
tant element  in  the  higher  application.  Fifthly,  let 
the  reader  remark  the  great  difficulty  in  supplying  the 
interstitial  ideas.  This  is  the  Gordian  knot  in  explain- 
ing allegorical,  and  indeed  all  prophetic  poetry.  I  am 
not  so  sure  I  am  right  in  each  instance,  as  I  am  of 
the  rectitude  of  the  general  principle.  And,  lastly, 
remark  that  Solomon  was  a  peaceful  king ;  he  uses 
soldiers  on  account  of  the  terrors  of  the  night  (i.  e.  to 
keep  safe  from  the  Arabs  of  the  wilderness).  "  Then 
he  said  unto  them,  When  I  sent  you  with  purse,  and 
scrip,  and  shoes,  lacked  ye  anything  ?  And  they  said, 
Nothing.  Then  said  he  unto  them,  But  now  lie  that 
hath  a  purse  let  him  take  it,  and  likewise  his  scrip ; 


THE   VERSION.  247 

and  he  that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his  garment 
and  buy  one."     (Luke  xxii.  35,  36.) 

Now  the  historical  analogy  will  conduct  us  to  the 
spiritual  meaning.  First,  that  we  all  begin  religion 
as  a  duty  in  the  way  of  conflict  and  self-denial.  Every 
young  Christian  has  a  host  of  unconquered  lusts  which 
war  against  the  soul.  The  conflict  is  a  severe  one,  and 
often  discouraging ;  he  makes  great  efforts,  and  some- 
times these  efforts  are  unsuccessful,  because  ill-direct- 
ed. But  let  him  remember  the  better  state.  The 
bride  found  her  spouse  not  directly  by  seeking,  though 
the  seeking  was  by  no  means  in  vain.  She  sought  him, 
but  she  found  him  not.  She  went  round  the  city ;  she 
asked  the  watchmen,  but  she  found  him  not.  "  But  I 
scarce  passed  them,  —  or,  I  had  passed  but  a  little  way 
from  them,  —  when  I  found  him.  I  grasped  him  ;  I 
would  not  let  him  go."  Every  Christian  during  the 
period  of  conflict  should  be  reminded  of  the  second  pe- 
riod, the  period  of  spontaneity.  It  comes  rushing  upon 
us  in  an  hour  when  we  think  not,  just  as,  in  a  contrary 
way,  Satan  entered  into  Judas  Iscariot,  when  he  had 
long  paltered  with  the  evil  principle.  It  is  ours  to  toil 
and  pray  and  struggle,  and  prepare  the  heart  for  the 
entrance  of  the  celestial  guest.  Sooner  or  later  this 
period  of  spontaneity  will  come  to  most  Christians. 
We  cannot  bring  it  on  directly  ;  it  must  come  to  us ; 
we  cannot  go  to  it.  But  bearing  the  cross  is  our  pre- 
paratory discipline.  Let  us  use  an  illustration.  Sup- 


248  THE  VERSION. 

pose  a  man  to  be  watching  for  the  morning ;  he  must 
wake  before  daybreak  ;  he  must  unclose  his  shutters 
and  lift  his  curtains  ;  and  though  he  can  do  nothing  to 
hasten  the  sunrise,  yet  he  must  prepare  his  house  to 
receive  the  glorious  beams  when  they  come  rushing 
into  his  chamber.  The  free  state,  the  victory,  is  the 
happy  goal  to  which  all  exertion  tends. 

There  are  other  significations  in  this  passage.  But 
we  give  only  specimens. 

CHAP.  IV.    Totum. 
SOLOMON. 

Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  love,  behold,  thou  art  very  fair ; 
thine  eyes,  as  they  peep  behind  thy  veil,  look  the  dove.  Thine 
hair  is  like  that  of  the  goats  which  hang  over  the  clefts  of 
Mount  Gilead.  Thy  teeth  are  white  as  the  flock  of  newly- 
sheared  sheep,  which  go  up  from  the  washing ;  each  having 
twins,  —  none  of  them  barren.  Thy  lips  are  threads  of  scarlet, 
thine  accents  beautiful ;  thy  cheek,  half  seen  through  thy  veil, 
is  like  a  fragment  of  citron.  Like  the  tower  of  David,  built 
for  a  magazine  with  a  thousand  shields  suspended,  —  the  buck- 
lers of  heroes,  —  such  is  thy  neck.  Thy  two  breasts  are  like 
two  hinds  feeding  in  a  field  of  lilies.  When  the  day  declines, 
and  the  shadows  are  extended,  I  will  go  to  these  hills  of 
myrrh,  —  to  those  protuberances  of  frankincense.  Thou  art 
all  beautiful,  my  love,  —  there  is  not  a  spot  in  thee. 

Up,  up  from  Lebanon  ;  with  me,  with  me,  come  from  the 
head  of  Amana,  my  spouse.,  from  the  head  of  Shinar  and  Her- 
mon,  from  the  cottages  of  Araoth,  from  the  hills  of  Nemairim. 


THE    VERSION.  249 

O  my  sister,  my  spouse,  —  thou  hast  subdued  my  soul  with  one 
glance  of  thine  eye,  —  with  one  look  at  thy  beaded  neck.  How 
beautiful  thy  bosom,  my  sister,  my  spouse  !  thy  bosom  is  better 
than  wine,  and  thy  savor  sweeter  than  all  other  spices.  Thy 
lips  ever  distil,  —  honey  and  milk  are  under  thy  tongue,  and 
the  smell  of  thy  garments  is  like  a  breeze  from  Lebanon.  — Yet, 
with  all  her  attractions,  my  spouse  is  chaste ;  she  is  a  garden 
enclosed,  a  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed. 

Thy  fair  form  is  a  Paradise  of  citrons,  with  other  celestial 
fruit,  the  cypress,  the  frankincense,  the  nard,  the  crocus,  the 
reed,  the  cinnamon,  with  all  the  groves  of  Lebanon ;  the  myrrh, 
the  aloes,  with  all  the  best  spices.  Thou  art  a  fountain  en- 
closed ;  a  spring  of  living  water  flowing  from  Lebanon.  — 
Wake,  north  wind  ;  come,  thou  south  ;  blow  upon  my  garden, 

that  the  spices  may  spring  ;  that  my  beloved  may  come  into 

^..    '•  *•  *•••»••»,  ._.. 

his  garden  and  enjoy  his  nobler  fruits. 

CHAP.  V.,  1st  verse. 
SOLOMON. 

I  come  into  my  garden,  my  sister,  my  spouse ;  I  crop  the 
myrrh  with  spices.  I  eat  the  comb  with  the  honey ;  I  drink 
the  wine  with  my  milk.  I  call  my  friends  to  share  the  ban- 
quet. Eat,  O  friends  !  drink  to  satiety,  O  my  companions  in 
love ! 

The  first  thing  noticeable  here  is,  how  the  spiritual 
meaning  peeps  through  the  allegorical  veil ;  and  this 
seems  to  me  a  sufficient  answer  to  Dr.  Noyes  and 
others,  who  say  there  is  no  indication  of  an  under- 
meaning  through  the  whole  poem.  But  one  of  the 
11* 


250  THE  VERSION. 

constant  indications  of  the  sublimer  purpose  is  a  train 
of  comparisons  and  hyperboles  too  strong  for  the  lower 
purpose  to  which  they  are  first  applied.  Thus  Solomon, 
in  the  seventy-second  .Psalm,  is  said  "  to  have  dominion 
from  sea  to  sea,  and  his  kingdom  shall  last  as  long  as  the 
moon  endure th."  Now  this  is  so  false  as  to  Solomon, 
and  so  true  as  applied  to  Christ,  that  the  conclusion  is 
inevitable  ;  we  must  so  apply  it,  and  vindicate  the  truth 
of  the  Divine  declaration.  It  is  the  very  way  in  which 
Peter  reasons  in  his  application  of  the  sixteenth  Psalm 
in  his  important  discourse  in  the  second  chapter  of 
Acts.  \  Let  us  ask,  then,  who  this  nymph  must  be, 
whose  neck  is  like  the  tower  of  David,  builded  for  an 
armory  whereon  there  hang  a  thousand  biicklers,  all 
the  shields  of  mighty  men.  LTo  apply  all  this  finally 
and  entirely  to  a  little  Arab  girl,  would  surpass  all 
bounds  of  Oriental  extravagance.  Certainly  this  mag- 
nificent imagery  was  intended  to  lead  the  mind  to  a 
meaning  which  would  better  justify  it.  And  then  it 
seems  inconsistent  with  the  rural  comparisons  con- 
nected with  it.  A  simple  girl  could  not  be  at  once  like 
goats,  like  kids,  like  sheep,  like  a  piece  of  citron,  and 
like  a  tower  hung  round  with  shields.  We  allow  the 
remoteness  of  Eastern  comparisons  ;  they  are  not  nice 
and  squared  like  those  of  Coleridge.  But  the  human 
mind  in  all  ages  is  essentially  consistent  ;  it  always 
seeks  real  similitudes,  and  is  always  governed  by  a 
law.  If  we  reflect  that  the  Church  is  often  a  temple, 


THE  VEESION.  251 

a  fortress,  a  city,  an  edifice  built  for  beauty  and  pro- 
tection, we  cannot  wonder  that  Solomon  himself,  with 
his  future  kingdom  dimly  gleaming  through  his  con- 
tested act,  should  slide  from  the  incidental  to  the  gen- 
eral, from  the  low  to  the  sublime  ;  and  still  less  can 
we  wonder  that  the  Holy  Spirit  should  guide  his  lips 
to  its  great  design.  We  conclude,  therefore,  with  some 
confidence,  that  the  variety  and  the  excess  of  these  com- 
parisons were  intended  (certainly  by  the  deeper  author) 
as  indications  of  the  allegorical  meaning. 

Our  translation  is  in  some  cases  disputable,  and  in 
some  cases  free.  A  translator  has  two  objects ;  first, 
to  preserve  the  literal  meaning  as  far  as  possible,  and, 
secondly,  to  preserve  the  poetic  shading  of  the  expres- 
sion and  thought;  and  sometimes  one  must  be  sacri- 
ficed to  the  other.  Thus,  when  we  say  that  "thine 
hair  is  like  that  of  the  goats  which  hang  over  the  clefts 
of  Mount  Gilead,"  it  is  true  hanging-  over  is  not  the 
simplest  rendering  of  the  verb  t^'^Jl  ;  but  my  object  was 
to  get  the  parallel  image,  —  the  same  picture  which  the 
poet  designed.  I  was  thinking  of  Yirgil's  "  pendere 
procul  de  rupe."  If  I  have  lost  the  literal  idea,  I  hope 
I  have  kept  the  spirit.  The  banquet,  too,  literally  speak- 
ing, would  be  sickening ;  it  only  becomes  beautiful  by 
the  allegory. 

The  spiritual  instruction,  admitting  the  allegory,  lies 
on  the  surface.  The  mixture  of  beauty  and  coercion  is 
found  in  the  Gospel  both  objectively  and  subjectively 


252  THE  VERSION. 

considered,  and  the  strength  of  the  coercion  comes  from 
the  beauty.  As  Plato  says,  ovre  jap  auro?  /3/a  nra- 
cr^et,  et  TL  irao-^eu  •  /3ia  yap  Epwros  ov%  ainerat, ' 

OVT6  TTOLWV  TTOiel  *     TTtt?   jap    €K(0V  '  EpCOTi     7TCLV   VTTrjpeTel.* 

It  may  be  concluded,  also,  that  the  beauty  of  the  Church 
(i.  e.  regenerated  hearts)  is  an  imparted  beauty.  "  I 
clothed  thee  with  broidered  work,  and  shod  thee  with 
badgers'  skins,  and  I  girded  thee  about  with  fine  linen, 
and  I  covered  thee  with  silk.  I  decked  thee  with  or- 
naments, and  I  put  bracelets  upon  thine  hands,  and  a 
chain  upon  thy  neck.  And  I  put  a  jewel  upon  thy  fore- 
head, and  ear-rings  in  thine  ears,  and  a  beautiful  crown 
upon  thine  head.  Thus  wast  thou  decked  with  gold 
and  silver ;  and  thy  raiment  was  of  fine  linen  and  silk 
and  broidered  work :  thou  didst  eat  fine  flour  and  honey 
and  oil ;  and  thou  wast  exceeding  beautiful,  and  didst 
prosper  into  a  kingdom.  And  thy  renown  went  forth 
among  the  heathen  for  thy  beauty :  for  it  was  perfect 
through  my  comeliness,  which  I  had  put  upon  thee,  saith 
the  Lord."  (Ezekiel  xvi.  10-14.)  Such,  then,  is  the 
beauty  of  the  mystic  bride,  like  that  of  a  sheet  of  water, 
reflecting  from  its  glassy  bosom  the  splendors  of  the  sky. 
Here  it  occurs  to  say  one  word  on  imputed  righteous- 
ness,—  that  everlasting  trap  for  idle  controversy,  that 
everlasting  source  of  consolation  to  the  simple  Chris- 
tian. Every  one,  before  he  raises  a  dispute  in  the 
Church  on  this  point,  should  ask  himself  what  is  the 

*  Plato's  Symposium,  CXIX.  C. 


THE   VERSION.  253 

real  issue  between  those  that  affirm  and  those  that 
deny.  Both  parties  agree  that  there  is  no  literal  trans- 
fer of  our  sins  to  Christ,  or  Christ's  obedience  to  us. 
But  all  Christians  pant  after  perfection,  —  a  perfection 
never  found  on  earth.  When  Dr.  Watts  says, — 

"  And  lest  the  shadow  of  a  spot 

Should  on  my  soul  be  found, 
He  took  the  robe  my  Saviour  wrought 
And  cast  it  all  around,  — 

lie  means,  probably,  these  things :  1st,  that  salvation 
is  of  grace,  —  all  grace  from  its  commencement  to  its 
completion  ;  2d,  that  our  justification  is  as  complete  as 
would  be  that  of  a  perfect  man ;  3d,  that  grace  in  the 
heart  tends  to  individual  perfection;  and,  lastly,  that 
all  the  deformities  of  our  nature  are  lost  in  the  subse- 
quent beauty.  This  he  chooses  to  express  in  complex 
metaphor,  because  the  language  is  addressed  to  the  heart. 
But  how  supremely  silly  to  put  this  language  into  a  cru- 
cible, and  analyze  it  until  it  has  lost  its  meaning  1 

The  meaning  and  application  of  the  sixteenth  verse 
are  so  exceedingly  obvious,  that  it  hardly  needs  a  com- 
ment. It  is  one  of  those  cases  where  the  allegorical 
meaning  is  more  obvious  than  the  literal  one.  An  in- 
visible power  calls  forth  the  odors  and  the  fruits.  What 
is  it  ?  "  The  word  is  nigh  thee,  in  thy  mouth  and  in 
thy  heart." 

The  first  verse  of  the  fifth  chapter  suggests  the  free- 
ness  of  Christ's  love  for  his  people,  and  the  rich  pro- 


254  THE  VERSION. 

visions  of  his  grace.  Here  is  a  cup  not  intoxicating, 
and  we  cannot  drink  too  deep.  The  secret  of  persever- 
ance in  religion  is  to  make  our  religion  our  delight. 
"  Where  your  treasure  is,  your  heart  will  be  also."  St. 
Paul  has  the  prose  parallel  to  this  verse  :  "  He  that 
spared  not  his  own  son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us 
all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all 
things  ?  "  (Rom.  viii.  32.) 

CHAP.  V.  2-8. 
SOLOMITIS. 

I  was  in  a  drowse,  with  a  sleeping  eye  but  a  watchful  heart. 
I  seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  my  beloved,  saying  to  me,  Open 
to  me,  my  sister,  my  Love,  my  dove,  my  spotless  One  ;  for  my 
head  is  damp  with  the  dew  and  my  locks  with  the  drops  of 
the  night.  I  have  put  off  my  robe ;  why  should  I  put  it  on 
again  ?  I  have  washed  my  feet ;  why  should  I  defile  them  ? 

My  beloved  put  his  hand  through  the  window ;  my  heart 
fluttered  for  him.  I  rose  to  open  to  him ;  my  hands  dropped 
myrrh,  and  my  fingers  sweet-smelling  myrrh,  on  the  handle 
of  the  bar.  I  opened  to  my  Beloved,  but  my  Beloved  had 
turned  his  back,  —  he  was  gone. 

I  sunk  at  the  thought ;  I  sought  him,  but  I  could  not  find 
him.  I  called,  but  he  gave  me  no  answer.  Nay,  the  watch 
of  the  city  found  me.  They  struck,  they  wounded  me,  they 
tore  off  my  mantle,  even  the  sentinels  at  the  gates.  But  I 
adjure  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  if  you  see  my  loved 
One,  tell  him  I  still  languish  with  love.  Notwithstanding  the 
persecutions  from  his  people,  my  heart  is  still  fixed  on  him. 


THE  VERSION.  255 

This  scene,  perhaps,  is  a  sort  of  imagination  of  the 
bride,  by  which  she  pictures  to  her  fancy  a  call  from 
her  spouse,  which  she  neglects  ;  and,  regretting  that  he 
is  gone  when  she  awoke  to  seek  him,  she  imagines 
herself  going  to  the  city  to  find  him.  She  had  really 
been  there  before,  and  had  experienced  the  jealousy 
and  opposition  of  his  people.  She  now  reconstructs 
the  scene  to  her  own  mind.  It  is  very  manifest  to 
my  mind,  that  there  is  a  real  history  behind  all  this 
poetic  description.  We  know  from  the  record,  that 
Solomon  made  affinity  with  some  of  these  rural  tribes. 
It  is  very  natural  that  such  a  marriage  should  excite 
great  attention  at  his  own  home,  especially  among  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem.  They  sneer  at  her  beauty, 
and  contend  that,  though  a  wife,  she  is  not  a  legiti- 
mate disciple  ;  she  contends  that  in  the  ardor  of  her 
love  she  does  not  yield  to  them.  We  are  informed 
that  in  the  first  preaching  of  the  Gospel  the  chief 
persecutions  were  stirred  up  by  the  Jews.  (See  Acts 
xvii.  5  —  9,  and  other  places.)  Even  the  better  Jews, 
the  converts  to  Christianity,  were  an  exceedingly  uncon- 
formable  people.  They  listened  to  Stephen  until  he 
spake  of  going  to  the  Gentiles,  and  then  they  drowned 
his  voice  in  their  tumultuous  cries  ;  and  when  Paul 
addressed  them  (Acts  xxiii.),  and  touched  on  the 
same  delicate  point  (ver,  21),  "  they  then  lifted  up 
their  voices  and  said,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from 
the  earth ;  for  it  is  not  fit  that  he  should  live."  We 


256  THE  VERSION. 

see,  then,  in  this  picture,  the  beginnings  of  the  same 
spirit;  and  the  bride,  who  bears  all  meekly  for  her 
spouse,  prefigures  the  superior  love  and  purity  which 
was  found  at  first  in  the  Gentile  Church. 

I  have  heard  the  words  in  verses  2-6  beautifully 
applied,  and  I  think  with  as  much  correctness  as 
beauty,  to  the  Christian,  or  the  Church,  losing  for  a 
time  a  sense  of  a  Saviour's  presence,  and  not  watching 
his  return  with  the  vigilance  which  is  required.  I  was 
remiss,  I  slumbered;  I  sought  negligently,  I  prayed 
feebly,  and  the  sweet  sense  of  my  Saviour's  presence 
was  gone  from  me.  He  waits  to  be  gracious  ;  I  was 
unwilling;  he  stood  at  the  door  of  my  heart  until 
his  head  was  damp  with  the  dew,  and  his  locks  filled 
with  the  drops  of  the  night.  What  an  affecting  pic- 
ture !  and  surely  the  whole  round  of  poetry,  ancient 
or  modern,  does  not  present  a  more  beautiful  periph- 
rasis than  calling  the  dew  the  "drops  of  the  night." 
The  proneness  in  a  sluggish  heart  to  idle  excuses  is 
here  delineated.  "  I  have  put  off  my  robe,"  &c. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  asked,  What  is  meant  by  the  ex- 
pression in  the  fifth  verse,  "My  hands  dropped  myrrh.'' 
&c.  ?  Is  it  a  general  expression  of  beauty  and  excel- 
lence, or  is  it  something  more  specific  ?  And  how 
is  it  appropriate  to  the  author's  design  that  such  splen- 
did imagery  should  adorn  the  act,  that,  when  the 
bride  is  represented  as  remiss  and  sleeping,  her  fingers 
should  drop  incense  at  the  very  hour  when  she  opens 


THE   VERSION.  257 

the  door  in  vain?  There  is  danger  of  refinement  here, 
I  allow.  But  the  object  seems  to  express  the  senti- 
ment. Though  sleeping,  though  negligent,  though  I 
am  conscious  of  much  unworthiness  and  imperfection, 
yet  I  have  something  left ;  all  is  not  gone ;  and  when 
I  awake  to  duty  and  prepare  to  receive  my  Lord,  I 
am  still  acceptable  and  accepted ;  my  hands  dropped 
myrrh,  &c.  on  the  latch  of  the  lock  I  was  unloosing, 
—  the  savor  of  real  piety  remained. 

CHAP.  V.  9  - 16. 
QSoLOMiTis  seems  to  hear  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  speak.~] 

What  is  thy  Beloved  more  than  others,  that  thou  so  chargest 
us,  thou  beauty? 

SOLOMITIS  answers. 

My  beloved  is  white  and  ruddy ;  he  bears  the  banner  over 
all  the  host.  His  head  is  refined  gold ;  his  locks  are  a  palm- 
bough,  black  as  those  of  a  raven ;  his  eyes  are  those  of  a 
dove,  perching  by  the  canals  of  water,  washed  in  milk.  His 
cheek  is  a  bed  of  spices,  a  circle  of  aromatics;  his  lips  are 
lilies  dropping  myrrh  and  balm ;  his  hand  is  like  the  gold 
of  a  ring,  encircled  with  gems  from  Tarshish ;  his  breast  is 
ivory  work  broidered  with  sapphires.  His  legs  are  pillars  of 
marble,  resting  on  polished  stone ;  his  form  is  like  Leba- 
non, like  the  noblest  of  its  cedars.  His  neck  is  delightful, 
and  his  whole  person  formed  for  desire.  Such  is  my  Beloved, 
guch  is  my  friend,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

The  change  of  persons  is  very  rapid  in  Hebrew  com- 

Q 


258  THE  VERSION. 

position.  "We  may  suppose  the  bride  to  imagine  she 
hears  this  question  from  the  daughters  in  Jerusalem 
(ver.  9).  When  they  call  her  the  fairest  among  wo- 
men, we  must  suppose  the  word  ironical,  or  the  word 
i"T£rn  in  its  contracted  form,  must  be  a  meaner  one, 
and  express  a  reluctant  concession.  I  have  trans- 
lated it  by  a  single  word,  —  thou  beauty,  —  which  ex- 
presses a  very  short  concession,  or  bitter  irony. 

In  the  next  verses  she  vindicates  herself.  She  seems 
to  say,  Yes,  my  rivals,  though  I  meet  your  objections 
and  sneers,  I  know  how  to  appreciate  my  royal  bride- 
groom as  well  as  you.  I  see  his  beauty,  I  appreciate 
his  worth,  and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  tell  you.  Per- 
haps the  novelty  of  my  condition  leads  me  more  to 
feel  his  grace  and  condescension.  The  speech  is  a 
vindication. 

The  permanent  lesson  is  very  obvious,  and  is  taught 
literally  by  our  Saviour  in  the  case  of  the  woman  who 
washed  his  feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with 
the  hairs  of  her  head.  The  more  we  feel  our  own 
deformity,  the  more  the  excellence  of  Christ  impresses 
the  heart. 

CHAP.  VI.  1-9. 
[SOLOMITIS  still  hears  the  objection.'] 

Where  is  thy  loved  One  gone,  O  thou  fair  among  rustics  ? 
whither  has  thy  loved  One  turned  himself  ?  Let  us  seek  him 
with  thee. 


THE  VERSION.  259 

Answer. 

My  loved  One  has  gone  down  to  his  garden  to  crop  his 
spices  ;  to  enjoy  his  garden  ;  to  pluck  his  lilies.  I  am  my 
Beloved's,  and  he  is  mine  ;  he  feeds  his  flock  in  the  lilied  field. 
Thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved,  as  Tirzah;  comely  as  Jerusalem; 
admirable  as  a  bannered  host. 

SOLOMITIS. 

O,  turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me  ;  they  are  terrible  in  their 
sweetness. 

SOLOMON. 

Thy  hair  is  like  a  flock  of  goats,  hanging  from  Mount 
Gilead.  Thy  teeth  are  like  shorn  sheep  which  go  up  from 
the  washing ;  each  having  twins,  none  barren.  Thy  cheek  be- 
hind thy  veil  is  like  a  slice  of  citron.  A  train  of  threescore 
queens,  and  fourscore  concubines,  and  virgins  without  num- 
ber, may  follow  other  brides ;  but  thou,  my  dove,  art  the 
single  object  of  my  love ;  thou  art  perfect,  the  only  child  of 
thy  mother,  the  select  one  of  her  that  bore  thee.  Even  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  shall  regard  thee  ;  the  queens  shall 
bless  thee ;  the  concubines  shall  sound  thy  praise. 

This  praise  of  the  bridegroom  must  be  very  grateful 
to  the  modest  spouse,  conscious  of  her  rusticity,  and 
conscious,  too,  of  her  love,  but  almost  afraid  to  lift  up 
her  eyes  to  hear  the  reproaches  which  her  rivals  are 
ready  to  heap  upon  her.  The  doctrine  of  grace,  free 
grace,  is  here  illustrated,  and  that  God  is  no  respecter 
of  persons.  The  vilest  heart  and  the  lowest  nations 
may  be  purified  and  raised. 


260  THE  VERSION. 

CHAP.  VI.  10-12. 

SOLOMON. 

Who  is  this  breaks  out  as  the  morning,  beautiful  as  the  pale 
orb  of  night,  super-eminent  like  the  Great  Warmer  of  the 
world,  and  wonderful  like  a  well-ordered  host? 

SOLOMITIS. 

I  went  into  my  garden  of  nuts,  to  see  the  verdure  of  the 
valley,  to  see  the  vines  germinate,  to  see  the  citrons  bud.  Or 
ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  bore  me  away,  as  on  my  native 
chariot. 

The  periphrasis  in  the  tenth  verse  I  have  endeavored 
to  preserve.  No  doubt  the  author  intended  to  call  nei- 
ther the  moon  nor  the  sun  by  their  direct  and  prosaic 
name.  He  calls  the  one  the  whiteness  and  the  other 
the  heat,  from  their  effects  and  most  striking  power.  I 
have  given  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  verses  to  the  bride, 
for  I  think  they  must  belong  to  her.  She  walks  into 
her  garden  ;  she  sees  the  vines  and  flowers,  and  her 
soul  is  ravished  with  instant  love.  How  many  lessons ! 
First,  divine  love  is  love  of  the  invisible  one,  whom 
"  having  not  seen  we  love,  and  whom,  though  we  now 
see  him  not,  yet,  believing,  we  rejoice  with  joy  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory."  Secondly,  we  see  that  this  love 
is  a  gift.  It  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  given  unto  us.  "  Or  ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul 
—  my  spontaneous  affections  —  bore  me  away  like  the 
fiery  courser  in  the  race."  And,  thirdly,  it  was  in  the 


THE  VEESION.  261 

use  of  means  that  this  gift  came,  and  very  natural 
means.  "  I  went  into  the  garden ;  I  walked  among 
its  shades ;  I  surveyed  its  beauties ;  I  remembered  the 
owner,  and  my  soul  melted  with  rapture  and  love." 
So  I  should  apply  this  simple  paragraph,  and  fear 
no  mysticism  but  such  as  was  intended  by  its  inspir- 
ing Author. 

The  last  verse  is  variously  rendered.  The  question 
is,  whether  it  be  a  phrase  or  an  expressive  name.  Am- 
mi-na-dib.  Some  celebrated  charioteer,  or,  My  willing 
people.  I  prefer  the  latter. 

CHAP.  VI.  13. 

SOLOMON. 

Return,  return,  O  bride  of  Solomon!  return,  often  return. 
Let  us  contemplate  thee  ;  what  shall  we  discover  in  this  bride 
of  Solomon  ?  The  chorus  of  a  host. 

The  Hebrew  verb  which  I  have  rendered  contem- 
plate rather  inclines  to  mental  sight, — to  seeing  as  the 
prophets  saw,  in  vision.  I  cannot  but  think  that  this 
verb,  together  with  the  answer,  — "  The  chorus  of  a 
host," — gives  plain  indication  of  the  allegory  and  the 
under-meaning.  Applied  to  a  mere  woman,  they  are 
extravagant  and  absurd. 

CHAP.  VII.  1-9. 

SOLOMON. 
How  beautiful  are  thy  ankles  over  thy  sandals,  0  daughter 


262  THE  VERSION. 

of  a  generous  sheik !  the  swell  of  thy  haunches  is  like  that 
of  a  cup,  the  invention  of  a  skilful  artificer.  Thy  front  is  like 
a  bowl,  brimming  with  wine ;  thy  form  like  a  hill  of  wheat 
skirted  with  lilies.  Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young  does ; 
thy  neck  is  like  a  white  tower.  Thine  eyes  are  bright  as  the 
fish-pools  of  Heshbon,  at  the  gate  of  Bethabbarim.  Thy  nose 
is  as  a  tower  of  Lebanon  facing  Damascus.  The  head  that  sur- 
mounts thy  body  is  like  Carmel ;  and  its  tresses  are  such  that 
the  grandeur  of  a  king  might  be  entangled  in  them.  Thy 
height  is  like  the  palm,  and  thy  bosom  like  clustering  grapes. 
I  will  taste  that  breath  like  the  flavor  of  apples.  Thy  throat 
like  sweet  wine  shall  pour  its  sweetness  to  my  lips  and  my 
teeth. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  part  of  the  allegory  harder  to 
manage  than  this.  The  reader  will  see  that  I  have 
softened  and  generalized  some  of  the  specifics  in  the 
original  description.  But  in  so  doing  I  have  scarcely 
departed  from  the  spirit  of  the  original.  Let  the  reader 
consider  the  literal  design  of  this  description  ;  it  is  to 
bring  forth  the  image  and  collection  of  images  as  a 
stepping-stone  to  the  ulterior  object.  We  must  see 
the  literal,  before  we  can  see  the  resemblance  which 
leads  to  the  allegorical  parallels.  Now,  among  the 
Orientals,  obesity  is  always  considered  as  a  beauty  and 
a  perfection.  This  is  the  general  object  in  this  de- 
scription. The  form  of  the  damsel  was  healthful,  ruddy, 
plump,  and  full ;  and  full  dresses  were  very  much  worn 
in  the  East.  The  expressions  Tl^n^  and  Tptp3  are 


THE  VERSION.  263 

not  so  much  intended  to  designate  the  parts  as  the 
general  roundness  of  the  form.  So  says  Gesenius  in 
his  Lexicon.  I  have,  then,  with  the  strictest  fidelity  to 
the  original,  rendered  it,  "  Thy  FRONT  is  like  a  bowl ; 
thy  FORM  like  a  hill,"  &c.  This  communicates  to  the 
English  reader  the  design  of  this  description. 

But  what  possible  lesson,  asks  the  fastidious  reader, 
can  be  derived  from  this  articulate  description  of  a 
rustic  beauty  ?  I  must  repeat  the  remark,  that  I  think 
these  comparisons  of  towers,  &c.  are  plain  indications 
of  an  under-meaning.  As  God  hears  the  prayers  he 
inspires,  so  he  loves  the  beauties  which  his  grace  im- 
parts. His  judgment  is  infallible,  and  where  he  ap- 
proves, there  is  matter  for  approbation.  The  virtue 
of  the  world  is  an  outside  virtue.  The  graces  of  his 
bride,  the  Church,  are  latent  beauties ;  the  more  they 
are  searched,  they  are  seen.  They  flow  from  one  foun- 
tain, and  in  all  their  particular  forms  they  are  real. 

CHAP.  VII.  10-13. 
SOLOMITIS. 

I  am  my  Beloved's ;  his  affection  is  fixed  on  me.  Come, 
my  Love,  let  us  go  into  the  fields,  let  us  spend  the  night  in 
the  villages ;  let  us  go  into  the  vineyards ;-•  and  there,  amidst 
germinating  buds,  opening  flowers,  and  flourishing  pomegran- 
ates, will  I  yield  thee  my  love.  There  grow  the  mandrakes ; 
and  there  have  I  laid  up  all  fruits  and  flowers,  new  and  old, 
to  invite  thy  repose. 


THE  VERSION. 

is  the  passion  of  the  bride  to  retain  her  lover 
in  the  country.  It  shows  her  anxious  preparation,  and 
her  felicity  at  his  presence.  She  evinces  the  strength 
of  her  affection  and  the  justice  of  it  from  his  amazing 
excellence.  The  Gospel  is  to  make  its  greatest  tri- 
umph and  show  its  greatest  power  in  humble  life. 
"  The  poor  have  the  Gospel  preached  to  them."  "  The 
common  people  heard  him  gladly."  "For  ye  see  your 
calling,  brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise  men  after  the 
flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called. 
But  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world 
to  confound  the  wise  ;  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak 
things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  things  which  are 
mighty ;  and  base  things  of  the  world,  and  things 
which  are  despised,  hath  God  chosen,  yea,  and  things 
which  are  not,  to  bring  to  naught  things  that  are ;  that 
no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence."  (1  Cor.  i.  26-29.) 

CHAP.  VIII.  1  -  4. 
SOLOMITIS  continues. 

O  that  thou  wert  my  brother,  nurtured  at  the  same  breast ; 
that  I  might  find  thee  without ;  that  I  might  kiss  thee  with- 
out reproach  ;  that  when  I  sigh  for  thee  I  might  bring  thee 
to  the  house  of  my  mother,  who  taught  me,  that  I  might  give 
thee  the  scented  wine  and  the  juice  of  the  pomegranate.  His 
left  hand  is  under  my  head;  his  right  supports  me.  I  adjure 
you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  that  no  one  disturb  or  wake 
my  love  until  he  wishes  it. 


THE   VERSION.  265 

It  is  astonishing  that  any  one  should  regard  this 
poein  as  a  sensual  exhibition.  The  imagery,  I  own,  is 
naked  and  Oriental ;  but  when  you  have  once  seen 
and  forgiven  this,  the  passion  is  uncommonly  pure 
and  delicate,  even  its  first  application.  Hence  the 
bride  expresses  the  purest  love.  "  0  that  thou  wert  my 
brother,"  &c. ;  and  in  verse  third  of  chapter  seventh, 
'>1J!  VTDH  JJN  t] TIB',  I  have  no  doubt  it  means,  "pel- 
le  non  corrugata  a  partu,"  which  was  the  sign  and  the 
proof  of  chasteness.  Everywhere,  though  the  language 
is  primitive,  the  sentiment  is  delicate,  and  every  ex- 
pedient is  used  to  paint  the  purest  passion.  It  must 
be  granted,  however,  that  the  mystic  writers  delight  to 
express  the  strength  of  their  feelings  by  the  Epicurean 
language  into  which  they  fall.  They  are  so  intent  on 
the  higher  object,  that  they  fear  and  feel  no  contami- 
nation from  the  subordinate  illustrations.  This  we  see 
in  Augustine,  Madame  Guyon,  Mrs.  Rowe,  Dr.  Watts, 
and  all  the  writers  of  that  school.  The  mind  seems 
to  be  free  from  all  fetters,  and  earth  is  forgotten  in 
its  celestial  flights.  No  doubt  such  a  practice  may  be 
abused ;  but,  nevertheless,  it  is  so  constantly  exempli- 
fied, it  must  pass  for  a  general  law. 

CHAP.  vni.  5-7. 
WITNESSES,  Hebrew  and  Gentile. 

Who  is  this  that  ascends  from  the  wilderness  leaning  on 
her  Beloved? 

12 


266  THE   VERSION. 

SOLOMON. 

Under  the  apple-tree  I  found  thee ;  there  thou  wast  born ;. 
there  thy  teeming  mother  brought  thee  forth. 

SOLOMITIS. 

Place  me  as  a  signet  upon  thy  heart,  as  a  signet  upon  thine 
arm.  For  love  is  strong  as  death,  jealousy  harsh  as  the  grave ; 
its  coals  are  burning  fire,  refulgent  flame. 

AUTHOR   speaks. 

Many  waters  cannot  quench  love  ;  nor  rivers  drown  it.  If 
a  man  were  to  offer  all  the  treasures  of  his  house  for  love, 
they  would  despise  him. 

I  suppose  the  words  in  the  fifth  verse  of  the  eighth 
chapter  to  be  very  emphatic.  They  are  a  general  ex- 
clamation of  astonishment  all  round ;  it  matters  little 
who  speaks  them.  The  amazing  vivacity  of  the  Ori- 
ental fancy,  like  the  poet's  mind  in  a  fine  frenzy  roll- 
ing, glancing  from  heaven  to  earth,  allows  us  with  a 
similar  effect  to  put  these  words  into  the  mouths  of 
several  persons.  It  may  be  the  bridegroom,  hearing 
in  imagination  the  exclamations  around  him ;  or  it  may 
be  the  bride,  or  it  may  be  the  author ;  for  not  as  in 
the  perfected  drama  is  it  necessary  in  this  poem  for 
the  author  wholly  to  retire.  Whoever  speaks,  (and  it 
matters  little  who,)  it  is  an  expression  of  astonishment, 
that  a  rustic  nymph  from  a  heathen  land  should  be 
led  up  to  Jerusalem  by  the  wise  and  splendid  king. 
It  is  a  striking  picture. 


THE   VERSION.  267 

And  surely  the  application  is  obvious.  Long  was 
the  contest  which  Paul  had  with  the  Jews  before  he 
could  peaceably  offer  the  Gospel  to  the  Gentiles.  "  But 
when  Peter  was  come  to  Antioch,  I  withstood  him  to 
the  face,  because  he  was  to  be  blamed.  For  before 
that  certain  came  from  James,  he  did  eat  with  the 
Gentiles  ;  but  when  they  were  come,  he  withdrew  and 
separated  himself,  fearing  them  which  were  of  the  cir- 
cumcision." (Gal.  ii.  11,  12.) 

In  the  seventh  verse,  I  suppose  the  author  to  speak. 
I  suppose  all  dramatic  writers,  even  Shakespeare  him- 
self, not  to  be  so  lost  in  the  personated  character  as 
not  to  put  into  their  mouths  occasionally  the  general 
sentiment,  —  the  moral  of  what  they  are  saying ;  and 
the  more  artfully  this  is  done,  the  better.  Perhaps 
the  general  sentiment  was  never  more  skilfully  trans- 
ferred from  the  mouth  of  the  author  to  that  of  a  per- 
sonated character  than  in  this  seventh  verse :  "  Many 
waters,"  <fec.  It  suits  either.  But  as  it  seems  to  me 
the  moral  of  the  whole  book,  I  have  chosen  to  mark 
it  as  the  sentiment  of  the  author. 

|  And  the  whole  application  of  this  part  of  the  book  is 
important,  and  vastly  important  in  that  age,  as  the  pros- 
pective and  permanent  spkit_£>L_lr-ue._.xeligion,  under- 
lying all  its  changes  and  forms.  It  is  illustrated  in 
1  Cor.  xiii. :  "  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of 
men  and  angels,  and  have  not  charity  (ayahnjv,  love), 
I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal." 


268  THE  VERSION. 

We  are  now  coming  to  a  part  of  this  poem  which 
to  the  English  reader  is  utter  darkness,  and  it  must  be 
confessed  that  the  learned  critics  have  shed  very  little 
light  upon  it.  I  can  imagine  a'  neologist,  or  infidel, 
taking  up  his  Bible  and  saying,  "  In  this  book  you  tell 
me  I  must  expect  to  find  the  words  of  wisdom  ;  in  every 
part  I  may  expect  to  find  the  inspiration  of  God.  Now 
I  take  the  Bible  and  open  at  Canticles  viii.  8,  and 
read:  'We  have  a  little  sister  and  she  hath  no  breasts: 
what  shall  be  done  for  our  sister  in  the  day  when  she 
shall  be  spoken  for  ?  If  she  be  a  wall,  we  will  build 
upon  her  a  palace  of  silver ;  and  if  she  be  a  door,  we 
will  enclose  her  with  boards  of  cedar.'  And  then  she 
is  made  to  say,  'I  am  a  wall,'  <fcc.  Now,"  the  infidel 
asks,  "what  possible  lesson  can  I  learn  from  such  in- 
spiration as  this  ?  So  far  is  it  from  being  the  wisdom 
of  God,  I  cannot  derive  from  it  the  least  gleam  of  sense. 
Is  there  any  revelation  made  to  us  by  unintelligible 
nonsense  ?  I  cannot  be  profited  by  what  I  cannot 
understand." 

To  such  an  objector  I  might  reply,  My  fellow-mor- 
tal, if  you  cannot  understand  this  passage,  just  pass  on 
and  you  will  soon  find  more  perhaps  than  you  wish  to 
know.  But  do  you  not  know  that  every  writer  may 
pass  for  a  weak  one  until  he  is  understood,  —  Lord 
Bacon  himself?  The  very  darkness  on  the  surface  of 
these  words  leads  me  to  inquire  into  the  design, — 
the  under-meaning. 


THE   VERSION.  269 

It  may  be  remarked,  that  there  is  an  hiatus  between 
the  seventh  and  eighth  verses ;  and  the  great  question 
is,  how  we  shall  fill  up  the  transition.  It  is  marked  as 
an  hiatus  by  Dath6  and  Rosenmiiller  and  others.  I 
cannot  pledge  myself  that  I  shall  satisfy  my  reader 
in  explaining  this  difficult  portion  of  Scripture ;  I  will 
only  say,  what  is  obscure  now  might  have  been  obvious 
once.  But  I  seem  to  see  a  very  probable  design.  Let 
us  consider,  first,  that  the  Hebrew  poets,  bordering  on 
the  hieroglyphic  period  and  using  a  primitive  language, 
are  obliged  to  make  rapid  transitions,  and  leave  inter- 
stices which  are  only  to  be  filled  up  by  the  reader's 
sagacity ;  secondly,  these  intervals  are  sometimes  sup- 
plied by  what  is  said  in  the  next  paragraph,  but  some- 
times purposely  left ;  thirdly,  they  are  very  fond  of  the 
enigmatical  style,  and,  fourthly,  this  style  is  especially 
to  be  expected  in  an  enigmatical  poem ;  and,  lastly, 
from  Solomon's  splendid  temple,  the  architectural  style 
applied  to  the  Church  was  very  current.  St.  Paul  uses 
it  (Ephesians  ii.  19-22):  "Now,  therefore,  ye  are 
no  more  strangers  and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens 
with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of  God ;  and 
are  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and  proph- 
ets, Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief  corner-stone  ; 
in  whom  all  the  building,  fitly  framed  together,  grow- 
eth  into  an  holy  temple  in  the  Lord  :  in  whom  ye 
also  are  builded  together  for  an  habitation  of  God 
through  the  Spirit."  So  Solomon  says  (Prov.  ix.  1), 


270  THE   VEESION. 

"Wisdom  hath  builded  her  house,"  &c.,  and  our  word 
edification  comes  from  the  same  source.  Now  I  suppose 
at  the  close  of  this  poem  the  author  gives  an  enigmatical 
solution  of  his  design.  He  means  to  make  a  pause, 
a  transition ;  he  goes  back,  he  recapitulates,  he  re- 
traces the  whole  design.  He  imagines  the  family  of 
the  bride  —  and  I  suppose  the  little  sister  to  be  the 
Solomitis  of  the  whole  poem  —  to  say  in  the  outset, 
"  We  have  a  little  sister,"  &c.  The  author  artfully 
puts  the  solution  into  their  mouth.  j<Let  us  explain 
the  whole  in  an  enigma.  "  There  is  to  us  a  little  sis- 
ter ;  she  has  no  breasts."  W^hat  is  she  ?  "If  she  be 
a  wall,  we  will  build  on  her  a  tower ;  if  a  door,"  &c. ; 
and  then  she  is  made  to  reply,  "  I  am  a  wall,"  —  that 
is,  I  am  not  a  literal  being.  I  am  something  more 
productive  than  King  Solomon's  vineyard.  A  further 
disclosure  did  not  suit  the  purpose  of  the  writer,  or 
the  preparation  of  the  age.  Just  as  the  Book  of  Job, 
after  starting  many  questions  which  could  only  be  solved 
by  the  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light  in  the 
Gospel,  partially  solves  these  questions  by  inculcating 
in  the  last  chapters  that  conscious  ignorance  which 
prepares  the  way  for  the  Gospel.  The  negative  part 
seems  to  me  very  clear,  that  this  wonderful  bride  was 
not  a  mere  woman.  Perhaps  I  may  add,  that  one  word 
omitted  in  the  hiatus,  or  a  single  corrected  error  in 
the  present  reading,  might  have  made  the  whole  pas- 
sage plain ;  or,  for  aught  I  know,  God  may  have  per- 


THE  VERSION.  271 

mitted  these  dark  places  in  his  divine  revelation  as 
tests  of  our  patience,  our  penetration,  our  reverence, 
and  our  love. 

It  is  possible,  too,  that  this  passage  is  not  placed  at 
the  close  o'f  this  book  chronologically,  but  because  it 
comes  in  there  best  as  an  exponent.  This  itself  is  a 
source  of  obscurity. 

CHAP.  VIII.  8-14. 

FAMILY  speak,  or  are  heard  speaking. 

We  have  a  little  sister ;  she  is  not  yet  mature :  what  shall 
we  do  for  her  in  the  day  she  is  wooed  ?  If  she  be  a  wall,  we 
will  build  on  her  a  tower ;  and  if  she  be  a  door,  her  panels 
shall  be  cedar-wood. 

SOLOMITIS. 

I  AM  a  wall ;  my  breasts  ARE  towers ;  and  by  his  favor  I 
have  found  peace  (i.e.  my  religion).  Though  King  Solomon 
had  a  vineyard  in  Baal-hamon,  and  he  let  it  out  to  cultiva- 
tors, and  each  man  brought  him  the  rent,  —  a  thousand  pieces 
of  silver,  —  my  vineyard  is  ever  before  me ;  a  thousand  are 
for  thee,  O  Solomon,  and  two  hundred  for  its  keepers. 

O  thou  that  dwellest  in  gardens  [such  as  mine],  followed  by 
suitors,  let  me  hear  thy  voice !  Make  haste,  my  Love ;  and 
be  like  a  hind,  or  deer,  on  the  fragrant  hills. 

A  riddle  is  now  the  amusement  of  children.  It 
seems  a  small  business  for  modern  sages  to  be  pro- 
posing and  guessing  riddles ;  but  it  was  once  the  work 


272  THE    VERSION. 

of  wisdom  and  the  employment  of  kings.  Joseplius 
tells  us  that  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  sent  sophisms  and 
enigmatical  sayings  to  Solomon,  and  none  of  them  was 
too  hard  for  his  sagacity.  (Antiq.  Jews,  Lib.  VIII. 
chap.  5.)  If  this  seems  to  be  an  idle  employment,  it 
is  because  we  forget  the  history  of  language.  In  the 
earlier  stages  of  learning,  language  is  a  very  imperfect 
instrument  of  communicating.  As  it  expresses  less,  we 
must  guess  more.  We  must  piece  out  its  imperfec- 
tions by  our  divination.  Even  now  the  Hebrew  lan- 
guage, with  all  the  vast  improvements  which  ages  had 
introduced  on  the  hieroglyphic  symbols,  and  all  the 
assistance  of  the  Masoretic  punctuation,  has  ellipses  and 
transitions  which  it  requires  great  ingenuity  to  fill. 
How  much  more  when  we  go  back  to  picture-writing ! 
We  have  some  specimens  of  the  ingenuity  of  the  Iro- 
quois,  published  among  the  New  York  State  Papers,  to 
show  how  far  these  barbarians  had  proceeded  in  re- 
cording events  by  these  symbolical  riddles.  (See  the 
Documentary  History  of  New  York,  Vol.  I.  pp.  12, 14.) 
When  they  advanced  to  the  hieroglyphic  state,  the  rules 
were  better  ascertained,  but  conjecture  was  still  neces- 
sary. But  even  the  phonetic  languages  in  their  first  for- 
mation were  very  imperfect.  The  Chinese,  it  is  said 
now,  has  no  syntax ;  it  takes  almost  a  life  to  learn  to 
read  it.  It  was  essential  to  all  learning  in  those  days 
to  know  how  to  untie  a  knot  and  to  guess  a  riddle ; 
and  a  tincture  of  this  mode  of  communication  lingers 


THE  VERSION.  273 

long  in  an  improved  tongue  after  its  necessity  has 
ceased.  How  many  cases  in  the  Bible  are  there,  in 
which  this  sagacity  is  almost  essential  to  the  art  of 
reading,  and  is  certainly  the  one  thing  needful  in  in- 
terpretation. (See  Psalm  xlix.  4;  Ezekiel  xvii.  2;  Ibid., 
chap,  xl.,  xli.,  xlii. ;  Jeremiah  ii.  18  ;  Ezekiel  xx.  49  ; 
Jeremiah  i.  11,  12;  2  Kings  xiv.  9;  2  Chron.  xxv.  18  ; 
Matthew  xxii.  41  -  46  ;  Mark  xii.  35 ;  Rev.  xiii.  18 ; 
and  many  other  examples.)  The  dreams  of  Pharaoh 
and  Nebuchadnezzar  were  riddles  until  the  holy  proph- 
ets had  interpreted  them ;  and  the  Bible  is  full  of  sim- 
ilar examples,  where  the  first  perplexity  increases  the 
last  impression.  Some  are  explained,  some  are  left  to 
the  reader's  patience  and  sagacity.  It  was  in  conform- 
ity to  a  long  and  necessary  custom  that  this  book  is 
closed  by  a  riddle,  to  be  discovered  only  by  a  perse- 
vering attention  and  a  congenial  heart.  This  method 
exactly  suited  the  design  of  the  poem.  The  book  was 
probably  written  for  a  peculiar  taste  and  a  peculiar 
piety.  We  are  assisted  to  guess.  The  negative  is  at 
least  clear.  This  wonderful  bride,  so  ardently  loved 
by  this  representative  king,  is  not  an  Arab  girl.  What 
is  she  ? 

The  reader  will  see  that  there  reigns  throughout 
my  hypothesis  this  one  principle,  that  the  permanent 
meaning  of  this  song  had  an  historical  origin,  and  that 
the  fact  in  history  suggests  the  spiritual  import  by  a 
uniform  analogy.  It  is  true  it  may  be  said,  —  a  point 


274  THE  VERSION. 

which  I  shall  certainly  concede,  —  that  it  is  an  hypoth- 
esis. We  have  no  direct  testimony  that  the  Song  was 
written  on  the  occasion  suggested.  What  are  your 
proofs?  I  answer, — and  there  I  rest  the  cause, — 
that  the  supposition  of  such  an  occasion  admirably  ex- 
plains every  part  of  the  dialogue,  and,  what  is  more, 
I  do  not  recollect  a  single  passage  where  the  hypoth- 
esis grates.  Most  hypotheses  need  a  little  forcing  of 
the  phenomena  to  make  them  stand.  I  ask  nothing 
of  this  to  support  mine.  The  rule  works  both  ways. 
Every  passage  in  the  poem  suggests  it,  and  there  is 
not  a  single  hint  by  which  it  seems  to  be  overthrown. 
There  I  rest  it.* 

But,  after  all,  some  persevering  sceptic  may  put  to 
me  the  question,  and  ask,  Do  you  really  believe  that 
any  modern  Christian  of  taste  and  discernment  can 
read  the  imagery  of  this  book  for  purely  devotional 
purposes  ?  Is  there  not  a  little  pious  affectation  in 
that  enthusiasm  which  pretends  to  see  Jesus  Christ 
amidst  the  gaudy  figures  and  flowers  of  this  Oriental 
song  ?  Do  you  yourself  peruse  this  work  without  any 
disturbance  of  the  fancy,  and  feel  the  spiritual  elevation 
while  you  read  ?  Lay  your  hand  on  your  heart,  and  give 
an  honest  reply.  Laying  my  hand  on  my  heart,  then,  I 
reply,  that  I  honestly  believe  all  I  have  said.  I  have 

*  I  beg,  however,  the  candid  reader  to  make  a  distinction.  The  alle- 
gorical character  of  the  book,  and  my  particular  theory  of  its  historical 
origin,  by  no  means  stand  on  the  same  evidence. 


THE   VEESION.  275 

no  doubt  of  the  allegorical  character  of  this  wonder- 
ful Song.  I  spontaneously  and  seriously  admire  the 
strain,  as  an  exquisite  specimen  of  Hebrew  archaism. 
I  allow,  indeed,  that  I  am  obliged,  in  order  to  feel  all 
its  force,  to  read  it  as  I  do  Homer,  with  a  perpetual 
reference  to  the  age  in  which  it  was  written,  and  the 
people  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  How  is  it  that  we 
relish  Homer  ?  Is  it  not  by  perpetually  forgetting  that 
we  are  moderns,  and  throwing  ourselves  back  into  the 
conceptions  and  manners  and  figures  of  the  Epic  age  ? 
Is  not  half  our  pleasure  relative  ?  If  we  stood  directly 
before  the  bard's  narrative,  and  weighed  his  merits  in 
modern  scales,  he  would  lose  some  of  his  lustre  and 
be  contemptible  in  some  of  his  opinions.  We  read  of 
TroSa?  WKVS  *A%i\\€v<;  and  \evfcw\6vos  f'Hprj,  Achilles 
swift  of  foot,  and  the  white-armed  Juno,  both  of  which 
expressions  would  be  misunderstood  by  a  modern  read- 
er, —  the  one  would  describe  a  coward,  and  the  other  a 
disproportionate  beauty, — but  both  of  which  are  exqui- 
site specimens  of  ancient  taste.  So  with  regard  to  this 
Song,  I  solemnly  say,  that,  viewing  it  in  this  reflected 
light,  I  regard  it  as  a  most  exquisite  gem  of  antique  ge- 
nius ;  and  its  piety  is  made  ten  times  more  affecting  by 
its  peculiar  dress.  It  has  struck  a  note,  however,  which 
has  been  reverberating  ever  since ;  and  though  I  must 
place  myself  at  an  almost  infinite  distance  from  that 
fervent  faith  that  has  most  relished  it,  yet  I  claim, 
without  a  fear  and  without  a  blush,  that  Us  distant  war- 


276  THE   VERSION. 

blings  have  lessened  on  my  ear.  I  hope  to  sing  it  in 
my  dying  moments  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  should  I 
be  so  happy  as  to  reach  the  blessed  region,  the  theme 
will  be  renewed  in  Heaven,  where  the  only  love  will 
be  divine,  and  the  only  marriage  our  espousals  to  God 
and  the  Lamb. 


PAET     III. 


THE   SUPPLEMENT. 


THE    SUPPLEMENT. 


THUS  this  book  which  has  perplexed  the  Christian, 
been  perverted  by  the  Romanist,  and  excited  the  sneers 
of  the  infidel,  is  found  not  to  be  an  impediment,  but 
a  prop,  to  the  fulness  of  Scripture ;  not  a  spot,  but  a 
gem,  in  the  diadem  of  revelation. 

The  fault  of  the  age  is  want  of  veneration  for  the 
Word  of  God ;  and  such  is  the  perversity  of  our  think- 
ing, that  we  call  this  escaping  from  Divine  teaching  by 
the  flattering  appellation  of  progress,  improvement ;  as 
if,  in  getting  rid  of  God's  wisdom  we  were  sure  to  in- 
crease our  own. 

This  error  comes  in  from  various  causes :  scientific 
difficulties,  exaggerated  objections,  contempt  for  ancient 
wisdom,  philosophy,  historical  scepticism, — for  example, 
the  speculations  of  Wolf  on  Homer,  and  Niebuhr  on 
Roman  history ;  the  boldness  of  modern  criticism,  and 
the  independent  spirit  it  inspires ;  the  love  of  theory, 
and  especially  learned  theories  ;  and,  more  than  all,  the 
general  pride  (I  must  say  it)  of  the  human  heart. 


280  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

The  power  of  revelation  consists  in  two  things: 
first,  the  information  it  gives,  and  secondly,  the  ven- 
eration it  impresses,  both  of  which  are  abated  by  the 
criticism  of  modern  times.  All  the  learned  specula- 
tions of  Eicbhorn,  Paulus,  Strauss,  and  Parker  come 
to  one  point,  —  to  turn  our  trembling  regard  for  the 
Bible  into  ineffable  contempt. 

Now,  the  very  genius  of  the  Gospel  is  faith  in  a 
speaking  God.  We  are  to  distrust  our  own  wisdom 
on  the  infinities  of  religion;  we  are  to  TREMBLE  at  the 
Divine  Word.  This  gives  a  revealed  religion  all  its 
character  and  all  its  power. 

Remove  this,  and  you  destroy  the  power  of  the  whole 
system ;  so  the  common  people  will  say,  and  human 
nature  speaks  through  them. 

The  peculiarity  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus  and  Paul 
is,  that  they  require  faith.  The  ancient  moralists, 
like  Plato  and  Tully,  founded  duty  on  seeing  and  fol- 
lowing nature  (sequi  naturam),  by  which  they  meant, 
not  the  impulses  of  the  heart,  but  the  laws  of  nature. 
But  the  Gospel  differs;  it  requires  faith,  and  "with- 
out faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  God."  Now,  faith, 
being  an  internal  act  of  the  mind,  implies  an  ob- 
jective. "  The  obedience  of  faith  is,  to  embrace  an 
obscure  truth  with  a  firm  assent,  upon  the  account  of 
a  Divine  testimony."  (Bates  on  the  Harmony  of  the 
Divine  Attributes,  p.  102.)  "  Thy  testimonies  are  very 
sure."  (Psalm  xciii.  5.)  "  Thy  testimonies  have  I 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  281 

taken  as  an  heritage  forever."  (Psalm  cxix.  111.)  "  Thy 
testimonies  that  thou  hast  commanded  are  righteous 
and  very  faithful."  (Psalm  cxix.  138.)  "  Concerning 
thy  testimonies,  I  have  known  of  old  that  thou  hast 
founded  them  forever."  (Psalm  cxix.  152.) 

Faith  implies  the  infallible  inspiration  of  the  record 
on  which  it  reposes.  The  Gospel  is  a  book-religion. 
The  genius  of  science  is  to  look  forward  to  the  future ; 
the  revelations  are  before  us.  Here,  as  Bacon  has  said, 
we  are  the  ancients,  and  our  early  progenitors  are  the 
true  children;  and  the  reason  is,  because  the  volume 
of  nature  is  spread  out  before  us,  and  all  her  recon- 
dite laws  are  to  be  discovered  by  successive  investiga- 
tion. It  takes  time  to  exhaust  the  investigation.  But 
all  the  considerations  which  make  it  wise  and  safe  to 
look  forward  for  the  perfection  of  science,  make  it  wise 
and  safe  to  look  backward  for  the  teachings  of  religion.* 
"  Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for- 

*  These  remarks  need  a  little  modifying.  So  far  as  the  Bible  is  to  be 
regarded  as  a  profound  book,  the  complement  of  whose  instructions  is  to  be 
found  by  a  humble  and  progressive  criticism,  so  far  it  stands  parallel  to  the 
less  obvious  laws  of  nature,  and  we  are  entitled  to  look  forward  for  the  full 
discovery  of  its  information.  But  still,  allowing  this,  we  may  say  science 
and  revelation  are  opposites,  as  it  is  the  distinction  of  the  one  to  place  her 
fulness  of  light  in  the  future,  and  the  other  in  the  past.  The  guide  of  one 
is  independence  of  mind,  and  the  other  —  predominately  —  submission,  — 
submission  to  God.  The  one  is  like  a  star,  which  is  so  remote  in  space  * 
that  its  full  light  has  not  yet  reached  us ;  the  other  is  a  lamp  which  we 
already  possess,  whose  glorious  blaze  we  must  discern  by  removing  ob- 
structions. 


282  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

ever;"  and  a  religion  that  meets  the  wants  of  man 
must  (in  substance  and  outline)  be  as  permanent  and 
uniform  as  the  wants  it  meets. 

But  there  is  a  modern  view  of  inspiration,  which, 
by  altering  its  meaning,  vacates  its  power. 

Among  the  meanings  of  this  many-meaning  word, 
the  following  are  the  most  important :  — 

First,  reason  and  intelligence  considered  as  divine 
gifts  ;  this  use  is  sanctioned  in  the  Scriptures.  Job 
xxxii.  8  :  "  But  there  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Almighty  giveth  them  understanding  ;" 
probably  alluding  to  Genesis  ii.  7. 

Secondly,  the  inspiration  of  poetry  and  eloquence ; 
as  when  the  poet  says,  half  serious  and  half  conscious 
of  fiction,  "  Sing,  heavenly  Muse  !  " 

Thirdly,  a  sudden  impulse  on  a  great  occasion  ;  as 
when  a  child  utters  something  beyond  his  years,  or 
an  ordinary  man  makes  a  happy  reply,  we  say  they 
seemed  inspired. 

Fourthly,  the  inspiration  of  office;  as,  when  Saul 
was  anointed,  as  he  turned  from  Samuel,  "  God  gave 
him  another  heart."  Every  one,  parent,  school-mas- 
ter, clergyman,  magistrate,  no  sooner  assumes  the 
responsibilities  of  his  new  station  than  he  feels  a  pe- 
culiar influence  guiding,  and  often  anticipating,  his 
reason. 

Fifthly,  the  light  given  in  common  sanctification,  such 
as  every  pious  man  recognizes.  It  may  be  regarded  as 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  283 

•« 

a  passive  inspiration,  preparing  the  mind  and  heart  to 
receive  Divine  truth  whenever  presented.* 

Lastly,  inspiration  proper,  —  Qeoirveva-rta,  —  the  pre- 
vious meaning  of  the  word  which  makes  all  the  other 
meanings  a  strong  expression  for  a  weaker  idea.  It 
is  such  an  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  on  the  mind 
of  the  writer,  that  he  becomes  the  organ  of  infallible 
truth  in  the  teachings  of  revelation.  It  is  this  last 
kind  of  inspiration  which  the  sacred  writers  claim  for 
themselves.  The  object  of  such  inspiration  is  to  com- 
municate Divine  truth,  and  place  it  directly  on  Divine 
authority. 

But  a  different  theory  has  recently  prevailed.  Tak- 
ing advantage  of  the  ambiguity  of  the  word,  and  sub- 
stituting some  of  the  lower  meanings  for  the  higher, 
some  have  taught  that  inspiration  is  a  very  common 
gift,  claimed  by  the  sages  of  all  nations  ;  that  every 
man  that  has  an  inventive  mind  and  a  pure  heart  may 
be  inspired  ;  that  modern  wisdom  has  peculiar  claims 
to  this  inestimable  gift ;  that  Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Con- 
fucius, were  all  inspired  as  much  as  Isaiah  or  Paul ; 
in  a  word,  that  every  wise  and  good  man  is  inspired, 
and  that  the  Scriptures  claim  and  are  dictated  by  no 

*  "  Falsum  vero  intelligere,  est  quidem  sapientiae,  sed  humanae ;  ultra 
hunc  gradum  procedi  ab  homine  non  potest ;  itaque  multi  philosopho- 
rum,  religiones,  ut  docui,  sustulerunt :  verum  autera  scire,  divinae  est  sapi- 
entiae ;  homo  autem  per  se  ipsum,  pervenire  ad  hanc  scientiam  non  potest, 
nisi  doceatur  a  Deo."  Lactantius,  Inst.  Lib.  II.  Sect.  3. 


fum' 


284  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

other  inspiration.     The  celestial  vision  is  open  to  every 
higher  mind. 

One  proof  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  is  found 
in  that  vast  prospective  wisdom  by  which  they  seem 
to  foresee  an  unborn  error,  and  by  a  double  proposi- 
tion, both  a  negative  and  positive,  anticipate  and  dis- 
card it.  So  true  is  this,  that  an  historical  commen- 
tary might  be  written  of  all  the  wild  speculations  which 
Paul  and  the  other  writers  have  virtually  overthrown 
before  they  existed.  Thus  when  Paul  says  (Colossians 
ii.),  "  Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through  philos- 
ophy and  vain  deceit,  after  the  tradition  of  men,  after 
the  rudiments  of  the  world,  and  not  after  Christ,'' 
how  is  the  wisdom  of  this  caution  illustrated  in  the 
heresies  of  the  Docetae,  indeed,  the  Gnostics  generally, 
the  Manichees,  —  all  the  prominent  heresies  before  the 
Council  of  Nice.  The  Apostle  seems  to  have  had  a  pro- 
phetic intimation  of  the  reigning  error  and  the  source 
of  the  error,  and  to  have  watchfully  guarded  them 
against  it.  The  whole  of  the  Manichean  delusion  came 
from  giving  the  word  o-apt;  in  his  Epistles  a  philosoph- 
ical, and  not  a  Hebrew  signification.  So  the  Apostle 
John  is  supposed  by  some  (some  say  he  wrote  after 
they  appeared)  to  anticipate  the  rising  errors  of  the 
Docetae.  (See  the  Gospel,  xix.  34,  and  1st  Epistle,  v.  6.) 
Now  it  seems  to  me  that  the  sacred  writers  had  the 
clearest  conceptions  of  the  recent  laxer  views  of  in- 
spiration ;  and  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  and  repeat- 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  285 

edly,  in  the  clearest  language,  have  said,  by  a  double 
affirmation,  that  their  inspiration  was  not  the  modern 
kind,  but  is  the  infallible  word  divine. 

First,  our  Saviour,  on  whom  the  Spirit  was  poured 
without  measure,  did  not  claim  to  have  unfolded  the 
whole  Gospel  (as  during  his  life  the  facts  were  not  com- 
pleted), but  promised  his  Apostles  (Johniii.  12)  author- 
itative illumination.  "  I  have  many  things  to  say  unto 
you,  but  ye  cannot  bear  them  now.  Howbeit,  when 
He,  the  Comforter,  is  come,  he  will  guide  you  into  all 
truth  "  (the  article  is  used  in  the  Greek,  ALL  THE  TRUTH, 
i.  e.  the  whole  system)  ;  "  for  he  shall  not  speak  of  him- 
self; but  whatsoever  he  shall  hear,  that  shall  he  speak; 
and  he  shall  show  you  things  to  come."  (John  xvi. 
12, 13.)  We  are  then  to  look  for  the  development  of 
the  Gospel  after  the  great  central  fact  of  his  death 
was  accomplished.  Christ  came  to  prepare  the  way, — 
to  give  the  fact,  not  to  interpret  it ;  just  as  the  God 
of  nature  accomplished  the  creation  before  he  explained 
it.  Accordingly,  Paul  says :  "  We  speak  wisdom  among 
them  that  are  perfect ;  yet  not  the  wisdom  of  this  world, 
nor  of  the  princes  "  (that  is,  philosophic  leaders)  "  of 
this  world,  that  come  to  naught.  But  we  speak  the 
wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery,  even  the  hidden  wisdom, 
which  God  ordained  before  the  world  unto  our  glory. 
But,  as  it  is  written,  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him.  But 


286  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

God  hath  revealed  them  unto  us  by  his  Spirit ;  for 
the  Spirit  searcheth  all  things ;  yea,  the  deep  things  of 
God."  (1  Corinthians  ii.  6-10.)  What  can  be  clearer, 
both  on  the  affirmative  and  negative  side.  Inspiration 
is  not  that,  it  is  this;  it  is  not  what  you  say,  but 
what  I  say.  It  is  not  a  common  vision,  arising  from 
a  pure  and  cultivated  reason,  —  though  that  maybe 
an  excellent  receptive  of  elsewhere-discovered  truth, — 
but  it  is  a  peculiar  gift  to  us  Apostles.  We  speak 
wisdom ;  and  what  we  speak  never  was  discovered  to 
human  invention.  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
that  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him ; " 
that  is,  the  facts  and  principles  of  the  Gospel.  "  But 
God  hath  revealed  them  unto  us,"  —  the  inspired  teach- 
ers ;  and  the  reason  why  they  must  be  discovered  by 
inspiration  is,  they  are  "  the  deep  things  of  God."  Can 
anything  be  more  plain  ?  The  Gospel  is  the  righteous- 
ness of  God  (i.  e.  the  mode  of  justification)  revealed. 
(Romans  i.  17.)  Hence  Paul  asserts  his  title  to  be  a 
teacher.  "  Paul,  an  Apostle,  not  of  men,  neither  by 
man,  but  by  Jesus  Christ  and  God  the  Father  who 
raised  him  from  the  dead."  (Galatians  i.  1.)  And 
again :  "  But  I  certify  to  you,  brethren,  that  the  Gos- 
pel which  was  preached  by  me  is  not  after  man.  For 
I  neither  received  it  of  man,  neither  was  I  taught  it 
but  by  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ."  (Galatians  i.  11, 
12.)  Our  Lord  had  foretold,  "  He  that  heareth  you, 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  287 

heareth  me  ;  and  he  that  despiseth  you,  despiseth  rne ; 
and  he  that  despiseth  me,  despiseth  Him  that  sent 
me."  (Luke  x.  16.)  "For  after  that,  in  the  wisdom 
of  God,  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased 
God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that 
believe."  (1  Corinthians  i.  21.)  Then  we  have  this 
natural  caution,  which  certainly  implies  the  superiority 
of  revelation  :  "  Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through 
philosophy  and  vain  deceit,  after  the  tradition  of  men, 
after  the  rudiments  of  the  world,  and  not  after  Christ." 
(Colossians  ii.  8.)  Mark  the  discriminating  negative. 
And  again :  "Let  no  man  deceive  himself;  if  any  man 
among  you  seemeth  to  be  wise  in  this  world,  let  him 
become  a  fool,"  (let  him  acknowledge  his  incompe- 
teiicy  to  forge  a  revelation,  or  its  truth,)  "  that  he  may 
be  wise.  For  the  wisdom  of  this  world  is  foolishness 

with  God The  Lord  knoweth  the  thoughts  of 

the  wise,  that  they  are  vain."  (1  Corinthians  iii.  18- 
20.)  "  God,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  man- 
ners spake  in  time  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  proph- 
ets, hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son, 
whom  he  hath  appointed  heir  of  all  things,  by  whom 
also  he  made  the  worlds."  (Hebrews  i.  1,  2.)  The 
people  were  astonished  at  Christ,  "  for  he  taught  them 
as  one  having  authority  "  from  Heaven.  (Matthew  vii. 
29.)  The  same  authority  is  claimed  for  the  Old  Tes- 
tament. It  is  a  literal  revelation  from  God.  "Did 
ever  a  people  hear  the  voice  of  God,  speaking  out  of 


288  THE    SUPPLEMENT. 

the  midst  of  the  fire,  as  them  hast  heard,  and  live  ? 
Or  hath  God  assayed  to  go  and  take  him  a  nation 
from  the  midst  of  another  nation,  by  temptations,  by 
signs,  and  by  wonders,  and  by  war,  and  by  a  mighty 
hand,  and  by  a  stretched-out  arm,  and  by  great  ter- 
rors, according  to  all  that  the  Lord  your  God  did  for 
you  in  Egypt  before  your  eyes?  Unto  thee  it  was 
showed,  that  thou  mightest  know  that  the  Lord  he  is 
God,  and  there  is  none  else  besides  him.  Out  of  heaven 
he  made  thee  to  hear  his  voice,  that  he  might  instruct 
thee  ;  and  upon  earth  he  showed  thee  his  great  fire, 
and  thou  heardest  his  words  out  of  the  midst  of  the 
fire."  (Deuteronomy  iv.  33  -  36.) 

The  description  the  sacred  writers  give  of  the  Gen- 
tile nations  is  mournful,  and  from  such  corruptions  we 
cannot  expect  prophets  to  arise.  "  And  we  know  that 
we  are  of  God,  and  the  whole  world  lieth  in  wick- 
edness." (John  v.  19.)  "  Because  that,  when  they 
knew  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as  God,  neither  were 
thankful,  but  became  vain  in  their  imaginations,  and 
their  foolish  heart  was  darkened  :  professing  them- 
selves to  be  wise,  they  became  fools,  and  changed  the 
glory  of  the  incorruptible  God,"  &c.  (Romans  i.  21- 
23.)  "The  prophet  that  hath  a  dream,  let  him  tell  a 
dream  ;  and  he  that  hath  my  word,  let  him  speak  my 
word  faithfully.  What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  ?  saith 
the  Lord.  Is  not  my  word  as  a  fire  ?  saith  the  Lord  ; 
and  like  a  hammer  that  breaketh  the  rock  in  pieces  ?  " 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  289 

(Jeremiah  xxiii.  28,  29.)  "  And  when  they  shall  say 
unto  you,  Seek  unto  them  that  have  familiar  spirits, 
and  unto  wizards  that  peep  and  mutter,  should  not  a 
people  seek  unto  their  God  ?  for  the  living  to  the 
dead  ?  To  the  law  and  to  the  testimony :  if  they  speak 
not  according  to  this  word,  it  is  because  there  is  no 
light  in  them."  (Isaiah  viii.  19,  20.)  The  triumph 
of  Moses  over  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  and  of  Daniel 
over  the  wise  men  of  Babylon  (Exodus  ix.  11,  and  Dan- 
iel ii.),  expresses  the  superiority  of  inspired  prophets 
over  the  most  improved  examples  of  Gentile  wisdom. 

"  When  thou  shalt  come  into  the  land  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee,  thou  shalt  not  learn  to  do 
after  the  abominations  of  those  nations."  (Deuteron- 
omy xviii.  9.)  And  in  the  eighteenth  verse :  "  I  will 
raise  them  up  a  prophet  from  among  their  brethren  like 
unto  thee,  and  will  put  my  words  into  his  mouth,  and  he 
shall  speak  unto  them  all  that  I  shall  command  him." 
In  the  twentieth  chapter  of  Exodus  we  find  that  a  whole 
nation  heard  a  manifest  revelation,  and  saw  the  terri- 
ble proofs.  "  Is  it  because  there  is  not  a  God  in  Is- 
rael that  ye  go  to  inquire  of  Baal-zebub  the  God  of 
Ekron?"  (2  Kings  i.  3.)  Naaman  the  idolater,  after 
he  was  healed,  confessed :  "  Behold,  now  I  know  that 
there  is  no  God  in  all  the  earth  but  in  Israel."  (2  Kings 
v.  15.) 

It  is  the  very  purpose  of  the  nineteenth  Psalm  to 
contrast  a  Divine  revelation  with  the  light  of  nature. 
13  s 


290  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

Though  the  "  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  firmament  showeth  forth  his  handiwork,"  yet  it  is 
"  the  law  of  the  Lord  that  is  perfect,  converting  the 
heart;  the  testimonies  of  the  Lord  are  sure,  making 
wise  the  simple." 

I  need  not  multiply  quotations  ;  the  Apostle  in- 
cludes it  in  a  short  sentence,  when  he  says  (1  Corin- 
thians ii.  16.):  "We  have  the  mind  of  Christ;  of 
Christ  who  was  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father  and  hath 
always  declared  him." 

"  Say,  will  the  Stoic's  flinty  heart 
Melt,  and  this  cordial  balm  impart  ? 
Could  Plato  find  these  blissful  streams 
Among  his  raptures  and  his  dreams  ? " 

Such  are  the  claims  of  some  of  the  chief  of  the  sa- 
cred writers.  Now  they  either  lie,  or  were  mistaken, 
or  utter  the  truth.  If  they  lie,  let  us  scorn  them  ;  if 
they  were  mistaken,  we  will  not  take  weak  men  for 
our  inspired  masters  ;  if  they  uttered  the  truth,  we 
have  a  Bible,  let  us  bow  to  its  authority. 

I  have  called  these  views  of  inspiration  modern. 
They  are  undoubtedly  very  old,  but  called  into  life  by 
the  course  of  modern  speculation.  Let  us  consider 
their  modern  origin. 

First,  they  came  partly  from  the  course  taken  in 
metaphysical  speculation.  It  is  well  known  that  Locke 
taught  that  experience  was  the  source  of  all  our  knowl- 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  291 

edge.  Man  had  no  innate  ideas,  —  his  concepts  all 
came  from  sensation  and  reflection ;  and  this  account 
generated  all  the  materialism  of  the  French  school ; 
also  the  extravagance  of  Berkeley  and  the  scepticism  of 
Hume ;  who  taught  that  experience  could  never  give  us 
the  concept  of  power,  or  the  nature  of  the  connection  of 
cause  and  effect ;  and  the  logic  of  Hume,  considered  as 
an  argumentum  ad  hominem  to  the  disciples  of  Locke, 
was  considered  as  unanswerable.  This  mournful  scepti- 
cism produced  a  reaction,  and  threw  the  German  meta- 
physicians on  a  different  course.  They  began  to  suspect 
that  experience,  under  the  forms  of  sensation  and  re- 
flection, was  not  the  only  source  of  our  knowledge ; 
they  thought  they  discovered  a  deeper  fountain  in  the 
pure  reason, 

"  The  vision  and  the  faculty  divine." 

A  direct  intuition  of  necessary  truth ;  that  power  by 
which  the  very  perception  of  a  thing  shows  its  neces- 
sity. This  power  makes  a  great  figure  in  the  meta- 
physics of  Coleridge,  and  all  his  strict  or  partial  fol- 
lowers. Now  it  was  very  easy  to  extend  this  vision 
and  faculty  divine  until  it  became  an  extra-biblical  in- 
spiration. A  wise  man  had,  as  some  thought,  a  neces- 
sary insight  into  divine  truth.  He  had  the  mental  sun 
before  him,  and  a  soliform  mind  ;  and  of  course  the 
vision  was  complete. 

Secondly,  the  usus  loquendi,  the   mode  of  speaking 


292  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

in  the  ancient  world,  was  supposed  to  favor  this  broad 
view  of  inspiration.  The  word  ©eoTn/evo-r/a,  whose  cog- 
nate is  OeoTTvevo-Tos  (2  Timothy  iii.  16),  is  well  rendered 
from  analogy  by  divine  inbreathing*,  which  the  Greeks 
and  Latins  attributed  to  their  oracles ;  and  the  Jews, 
by  the  phrase,  "  the  spirit  of  Jehovah  was  on  me," 
imparted  to  all  men  of  superior  genius,  and  especially 
to  poets  and  prophets.  Now,  from  the  common  use  of 
language,  —  the  safest  guide,  —  we  are  taught,  by  this 
expression  they  understood  all  those  earnest  speeches 
and  emotions  of  mind,  especially  in  poets,  which  they 
referred  to  some  divine  power.  There  is  a  remarka,- 
ble  place  in  Cicero  (Pro  Archias)  :  "  We  suppose  the 
study  of  other  things  to  consist  in  teaching  precepts 
and  art;  but  a  poet  has  his  powers  from  nature  her- 
self, is  excited  in  his  mind,  and  is  moved  by  a  certain 
divine  spirit."  So  Virgil  is  quoted  (^Bneid,  Lib.  VI. 
5,  and  III.  385),  and  Horace  (Lib.  IV.  Car.  6).  This 
is  the  same  thing,  they  allege,  as  when  Peter  says, 
"they  are  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost"  (2  Peter  i.  2)  ; 
that  is,  borne  by  a  divine  impulse,  — rapt ;  to  all  which 
expressions  the  signification  is,  a  strong  affection,  com- 
ing from  the  divine  fountain,  making  the  speaker  elo- 
quent; nor  do  I  doubt  the  expression  "taught  of  God" 
(John  vi.  45, 1  Thessalonians  iv.  9)  has  a  similar  mean- 
ing. In  a  word,  all  mental  excitement  which  arises 
from  God,  whether  by  a  direct  operation,  or  from  an  ad- 
miring mind,  or  from  truth  which  providentially  comes 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  293 

• 

to  man,  is  called  in  the  common  speech  of  antiquity, 
inspiration.  (Doderlein,  Yol.  I.  pp.  91,  92.) 

It  is  remarkable  that  some  ambiguities  in  the  He- 
brew language  are  adduced  as  favoring  these  views. 
Thus  the  Hebrew  word  X?D3  signifies  both  a  poet  and 
a  prophet ;  the  cognate  verb  signifies  to  sing,  to  utter 
poetry,  and  to  prophesy ;  and  the  word  in  the  fifth 
Psalm  which  our  translators  have  rendered  "  foolish," 
comes  from  an  expression  of  the  highest  praise.  The 
argument  would  be  that  the  very  etymology  of  their 
language  lets  out  the  secret ;  the  words  are  ambigu- 
ous because  they  confounded  divine  inspiration  with 
natural  excitement ;  and  some  would  quote,  perhaps, 
what  Elisha  said  when  about  to  prophesy  for  Jehoram 
and  Jehoshaphat,  before  their  battle  with  Moab  (2  Kings 
iii.  15)  :  "  But  now  bring  me  a  minstrel.  And  it  came 
to  pass  as  he  played,  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  came 
upon  him."  Now  it  would  not  be  a  prodigy,  if  some 
German  commentator,  educated  even  before  Strauss 
came  upon  the  stage,  should  take  it  into  his  head  to 
say  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  coming  upon  him  was 
the  natural  effect  of  the  music.  It  would  be  a  very 
simple  account  of  the  incident. 

But,  thirdly,  there  is  another  origin,  and  that  is  the 
mythic  mode  of  interpreting  which  now  prevails.  This 
word  has  recently  come  into  use ;  and  it  has  wrought 
wonders  both  in  profane  and  sacred  history,  and  has 
had  a  cognate  influence  on  our  views  of  inspiration. 


294  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

What  does  it  mean?  Is  it  a  lie?  No.  Is  it  a  truth? 
No.  But  a  shapeless  thing  moving  between  them, 
and  always  moving  much  nearer  to  the  lie  than  to  the 
truth.  In  one  of  our  June  sunsets  you  may  regard 
yon  tall  shadow,  lying  eastward  of  yonder  oak,  as  the 
myth  of  the  tree ;  or  the  shade  of  Cowper,  as  he 
describes  it  when  the  evening  stretches  a  length  of 
shadow  o'er  the  field :  — 

"  Mine,  spindling  into  longitude  immense, 
In  spite  of  gravity  and  sage  remark 
That  I  myself  am  but  a  fleeting  shade, 
Provokes  me  to  a  smile.    With  eye  askance 
I  view  the  muscular-proportioned  limb 
Transformed  to  a  lean  shank.     The  shapeless  pair, 
As  they  designed  to  mock  me,  at  my  side 
Take  step  for  step ;  and,  as  I  near  approach 
The  cottage,  walk  along  the  plastered  wall, 
Preposterous  sight !  the  legs  without  the  man." 

The  Task,  Book  V. 

This  "  preposterous  sight "  which  provoked  the  poet's 
smile  was  the  myth  of  himself.  But  let  us  hear  it 
defined  by  one  who  made  the  greatest  use  of  it  in  his 
historical  speculations.  "  Mythological  tales  of  this  sort 
(i.  e.  Romulus  and  the  wolf)  are  misty  shapes,  often 
no  more  than  a  Fata  Morgana,  the  prototype  of  which 
is  invisible,  the  law  of  refraction  is  unknown  ;  and  even 
were  it  not  so,  still  it  would  surpass  any  powers  of 
reflection  to  proceed  so  subtilely  and  skilfully  as  to 
divine  the  unknown  prototype  from  these  strangely 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  295 

blended  forms.  But  such  magical  shapes  are  differ- 
ent from  mere  dreams,  and  are  not  without  a  hidden 
foundation  in  truth.  The  name  of  dreams  belongs 
only  to  the  fictions  imagined  by  the  later  Greeks,  after 
the  tradition  had  become  extinct,  and  when  individuals 
were  indulging  a  wanton  license  in  altering  the  old 
legends,  not  considering  that  their  diversity  and  mul- 
tiplicity had  been  the  work  of  the  whole  people,  and 
not  a  matter  for  individual  caprice  to  meddle  with." 
(Niebuhr's  History  of  Rome,  Vol.  I.  p.  169,  Hare  and 
Thirlwall's  trans.,  1835.) 

We  have  an  idea  of  what  a  myth  is  in  the  sam- 
ples of  Incredibles  given  by  Palaephatus,  and  of  which 
a  selection  is  in  the  old  Graeca  Minora,  which  was  for- 
merly studied  at  Andover  Academy  ;  though  most  of 
the  explanations,  perhaps  Niebuhr  would  say,  are  more 
incredible  than  the  wonders  they  defend. 

Now  it  is  to  be  expected,  when  we  have  reduced  all 
the  narratives  of  the  book  to  myths,  we  should  con- 
clude the  spirit  that  inspired  them  to  be  a  delusion. 

To  these  sources  of  speculation  we  may  still  add  an- 
other, and  that  is,  the  pleasure  that  an  iconoclast  takes 
in  breaking  all  the  sacred  images  he  finds,  however 
august  the  temple  which  encloses  them,  and  whatever 
the  service  to  which  they  are  consecrated.  Gibbon 
has  described  (Vol.  III.  p.  465)  the  assault  of  the 
Roman  soldiers  on  the  figure  of  Serapis,  when  all  the 
multitude  expected  that  the  heavens  and  the  earth 


296  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

would  instantly  return  to  their  original  chaos  if  the 
statue  fell.  It  did  fall,  and  the  thunders  were  si- 
lent, and  the  heavens  and  the  earth  preserved  their 
original  tranquillity.  Human  nature  is  so  made  that 
it  loves  its  own  daring ;  and  some  go  on  from  one 
deed  to  another,  until  they  have  blasted  all  the  sub- 
limity in  the  universe.  They  sit  rejoicing  on  their 
own  black  thrones,  and  contemplate  exultingly  the  ruin 
they  have  made. 

The  falsehood  of  this  new  doctrine  is  just  as  mani- 
fest as  the  truth  of  the  Bible.  It  is  ingeniously  false ; 
false  in  fact  and  false  in  spirit.  It  is  not  simply  wrong, 
but  it  is  a  complete  reversal  of  the  sacred  design.  The 
aim  of  the  sacred  writers  is  to  draw  a  line  between  di- 
vine and  human  wisdom  ;  to  give  us  the  declarations 
of  God  instead  of  human  philosophy.  The  great  ob- 
ject of  modern  heresy  is  to  confound  that  line.  The 
Bible  demands  faith ;  this  system  produces  distrust ; 
nay,  it  renders  the  Pauline  faith  forever  impossible. 
It  takes  away  our  confidence  in  the  word,  and  puts  it 
on  human  idealism.  It  weakens  what  God  strength- 
ens, and  strengthens  what  God  weakens.  It  is  a  false 
fact,  producing  a  false  influence  ;  and  even  the  inter- 
mingled truth  which  makes  its  absurdities  plausible, 
becomes  an  error  in  its  influence  and  connection ;  even 
as  a  stone  which  a  young  tree  encloses  and  covers  in 
its  bark,  perverts  its  growth,  impairs  its  beauty,  and 
produces  its  ruin. 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  297 

We  may  illustrate  this  point  by  the  view  we  take  of 
most  of  the  superstitions  in  the  world.  Superstition 
is  generally  the  relict  and  distortion  of  a  perished  rev- 
elation. Superstition  has  always  been  considered  what 
the  new  interpreters  pronounce  the  Bible  to  be,  and, 
with  a  revelation  to  guide  our  selection  and  to  help 
us  to  discriminate,  its  various  forms  teach  us  something. 
But  without  a  higher  light  how  dark  its  pages,  how 
latent  its  truth,  and  how  utterly  contemptible  its  author- 
ity !  Take  the  Hindoos  as  an  example.  Their  system 
assumes  the  guilt  of  man,  the  need  of  purification,  and 
a  host  of  errors  and  imbecilities  in  the  mode.  Repent- 
ance with  them  is  swinging  on  hooks ;  sanctification  is 
washing  in  the  Ganges.  The  ray  of  light  mingled  with 
their  darkness  is  so  feeble  as  hardly  to  be  seen,  and  so 
associated  with  vaporous  delusion  as  to  have  no  au- 
thority. 

The  folly  of  this  system  may  also  be  seen  in  the  con- 
trasted example  of  Socrates.  He  was  just  in  the  con- 
dition in  which  the  Novelists  say  Moses  was,  Isaiah,  and 
Paul.  He  was  an  honest  man,  wishing  to  enlighten  his 
age.  He  must  have  had  three  kinds  of  consciousness. 
First,  he  must  have  been  conscious  of  his  own  supe- 
riority ;  secondly,  he  must  have  been  conscious  of  his 
own  non-inspiration;  and,  thirdly,  that  the  world  needed 
authoritative  teaching.  All  these  were  present  to  his 
mind.  What  does  he  do  ?  Does  he  choose  a  salutary 
fiction  to  supply  the  vacancy,  or  does  he  fall  into  a 
13* 


298  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

partial  delusion  as  to  his  mission  ?  Not  at  all.  He 
acts  as  a  good  man  would  act ;  he  confesses  his  igno- 
rance ;  he  is  everywhere  looking  round  for  some  rev- 
elation to  lean  on ;  he  sees  how  desirable  such  a  reve- 
lation would  be ;  he  owns  its  vast  importance.  He  is 
looking  round  and  catching  at  each  reed  of  hope  that 
his  own  traditions  present  him.  Because  he  has  no 
Bible,  he  turns  some  of  the  verses  of  Homer  into  the 
voice  of  God  ;  he  makes  the  oracles  speak  from  heaven, 
and  he  appeals  to  the  traditions,  —  ra  Xeyojjieva,  —  and 
a  ol  TroirjToi  r]yCiv  ael  OpvXovaw,  —  the  intimations  of 
the  poets,  —  show  how  he  longed  for  Divine  instruc- 
tion, how  firmly  he  rejected  any  personal  claims  to  it. 
Even  his  Demon  he  explains  to  be  only  the  voice  of 
Providence.  Now  compare  his  conduct  with  that  im- 
puted to  the  prophets  in  an  imputed  similarity  of  con- 
dition, and  how  he  shines  over  them !  How  much 
greater  his  truth!  How  much  wiser  his  discrimination! 
If  the  Apostles  had  his  honesty  and  wisdom,  could  they 
have  turned  a  false  inspiration  into  a  true  one  ?  Would 
they  not  have  copied  his  example  ?  The  only  possible 
solution,  consistent  with  the  least  respect  for  their 
hearts  or  heads,  must  be,  with  equal  integrity  they 
were  truly  inspired.  They  had  a  different  conscious- 
ness. 

The  nature  of  this  opinion  is  seen  in  its  influence. 
As  it  opposes  the  prime  design  of  revelation,  —  that  is, 
to  diminish  our  confidence  in  independent  speculation, 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  299 

and  carry  to  the  highest  point  our  veneration  for  .the 
Word,  —  its  influence  is  seen  in  the  havoc  it  makes 
on  human  faith.  Men  now  venerate  nothing ;  they  are 
like  the  unjust  judge  (Luke  xviii.  2),  "which  feared 
not  God,  neither  regarded  man."  They  have  lost  their 
Bible  and  deified  their  reason.  The  first  form  of  this 
innovation  had  this  peculiarity,  that  it  drew  an  indefi- 
nite line,  which  moved  along,  swifter  or  slower,  like 
the  edge-shadow  of  a  cloud  over  the  field  ;  one  bold 
step  was  sure  to  lead  to  another,  when  boldness  was 
regarded  as  the  only  wisdom.  The  Scripture  often  pre- 
sents us  in  single  passages  an  alternative  of  a  very 
sublime  meaning  or  a  very  mean  one,  and  the  duality 
of  choice  is  a  guide  to  the  interpretation ;  thus,  in 
Luke  x.  42,  "  One  thing  is  needful,"  you  may  say,  our 
Saviour  intended  only,  "  One  dish  is  enough  for  my 
frugal  table ; "  or  you  may  take  the  common  interpre- 
tation :  True  piety  is  what  we  principally  need  ;  "  seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  heaven  and  its  righteousness."  But 
how  immensely  different  the  grandeur  and  importance 
of  the  two  meanings  !  and  can  a  spiritual  man  lay 
the  two  side  by  side,  and  compare  them,  and  not  see 
the  right  choice  ?  So  in  2  Timothy  iii.  16  :  "  All  Scrip- 
ture is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  is  profitable 
for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  instruction  in  righteous- 
ness." The  English  reader  sees  that  the  word  is  is 
supplied  in  the  translation,  and  the  question  is,  Where 
shall  we  place  it  ?  Shall  we  say,  as  some  say,  All 


300  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

Scripture  that  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof, 
for  correction,  for  instruction  in  righteousness,  is  given 
by  inspiration  of  God  ;  or  shall  we  take  the  old  ar- 
rangement, and  consequently  the  old  meaning  ?  Here 
comes  the  instructive  duality.  The  old  meaning  gives 
us  a  clear  rule,  and  we  may  be  sure  that,  knowing 
what  inspiration  is,  it  must  be  useful.  The  other 
meaning  throws  us  out  on  a  vague  sea ;  we  are  to 
trust  our  own  sentiments.  We  are  to  judge  first,  what 
is  profitable  for  our  instruction  and  eternal  benefit, 
and  then  to  say  it  comes  immediately  or  remotely  from 
a  divine  revelation.  We  are  to  take  the  Bible  itself, 
and  to  say,  Whatever  I  think  profits  me,  I  allow  to 
be  inspired ;  the  rest  I  reject.  Who  does  not  see  that 
this  construction  reverses  the  design  of  the  first ;  it 
reverses  the  very  design  of  inspiration  ?  Here  are  two 
paths  ;  one  leads  you  from  your  feeble  self  to  the  throne 
of  God ;  the  other  leads  you  from  the  throne  of  God 
to  your  feeble  self.  Which,  now,  is  most  suitable  to 
the  tone  of  authority  in  which  Paul  generally  speaks  ? 
To  my  mind,  the  very  stating  of  this  choice  gives  the 
answer.  If  I  find  a  broken  reed  driven  by  the  gale, 
I  know  it  is  not  a  weaver's  beam  or  a  giant's  spear ; 
it  is  certainly  not  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon, 
And  see  the  consequence  of  abandoning  the  cer- 
tain line  for  a  vague  one.  Some  time  in  the  last  cen- 
tury, Farmer  respectfully  and  timidly  suggested  that 
the  temptation  in  the  desert  (Matthew  iv.  1  - 11)  is  a 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  301 

mental  conflict,  a  kind  of  allegory  to  describe  vividly  the 
thoughts  that  revolved  in  the  breast  of  Christ  when  he 
was  about  to  begin  his  ministry.  The  suggestion  went 
over  to  Germany  and  set  their  fertile  minds  at  work, 
and  now,  in  less  than  half  a  century,  we  have  their  im- 
provements floated  back.  The  temptation,  according 
to  Strauss,  was  a  myth,  written  after  the  alleged  pe- 
riod of  the  transaction.  As  an  historical  fact  it  has 
no  consistency,  —  no  possibility  of  existing.  What  is 
its  design  as  an  historical  incident  ?  It  has  none.  It 
grew  up  afterward  from  a  personated  devil,  and  the 
Jewish  idea  that  he  must  be  the  adversary  of  the  Mes- 
siah. Christ  must  be  invincible  to  the  strongest  temp- 
tation. He  must  have  no  worldly  ambition,  no  inter- 
nal weakness.  As  a  fact,  what  infinite  difficulties !  How 
could  he  see  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  from  a  moun- 
tain ?  How  was  his  divinity  peccable  ?  Did  the  Devil 
know  who  he  was  ?  and  if  he  did,  how  could  he  hope 
to  prevail  ?  There  is  no  end  to  such  questions,  and 
therefore  the  whole  history  is  expunged.  Christ  him- 
self, with  all  his  miracles  and  teachings,  vanishes  into 
a  sublime  idea;  and  humanity  and  divinity  are  united 
in  some  fictitious  personage,  invented  by  some  lying 
benefactor  of  our  race  in  the  second  or  third  century. 
Such  are  the  sublime  discoveries  of  modern  wisdom. 
Such  is  the  new  religion. 

Of  course  a  central  truth  removed  and  a  falsehood 
substituted  in  its  place  must  be  dangerous.     The  dan- 


302  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

ger  is,  destroying  the  power  of  revelation,  —  the  truth, 
the  faith,  the  reverence,  the  hope,  the  joy,  the  final 
salvation  !  Revelation  reveals  nothing.  We  never, 
with  these  views,  tremble  at  the  Word  of  God.  We 
never  make  even  the  mistake  of  the  disciples  of  old, 
at  the  voice  from  heaven,  when  they  said,  "  It  thun- 
dered." (John  xii.  29.) 

The  danger  of  withdrawing  our  veneration  from  the 
divinely  great,  and  putting  it  on  the  human,  is  every- 
where apparent.  The  experiment  has  been  made. 
The  Word  of  God  has  never  been  too  much  respected. 
When  we  cast  away  these  cords,  we  become  prisoners 
to  a  tyrannical  superstition,  or  to  a  noxious  liberty. 
In  rejecting  the  Bible,  the  first  effect,  of  course,  is 
infidelity ;  but  this  is  seldom  permanent.  The  popu- 
lar mind  cannot  rest  there.  Men  pass  through  un- 
belief to  priestcraft.  If  we  lose  the  infallible  book 
we  go  to  the  infallible  pontiff,  or  some  kindred  delu- 
sion. The  state  of  Europe  is  now  an  illustration. 
Since  the  French  Revolution  there  have  been  thousands 
and  thousands  panting  for  civil  liberty.  The  effort  has 
been  made,  but  it  fails,  because  anarchy  is  the  result. 
Napoleon  III.  is  now  kept  on  his  throne  by  fear  of  an- 
archy. The  first  Napoleon  rose  to  power  over  the 
evils  of  anarchy.  The  Pope  holds  his  power  because 
he  rules  over  a  population  that  have  not  proved  their 
competence  to  self- direction.  It  is  the  perpetual  argu- 
ment of  all  despots,  that  the  people  are  incapable  of 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  303 

salutary  freedom.  The  hierarchy  of  the  Romish  Church 
rose  on  the  obscuration  of  the  Bible,  and  lost  its  su- 
premacy when  the  Bible  was  restored.  Man  is  capa- 
ble of  freedom  just  in  the  degree  that  he  understands 
and  submits  to  the  revelations  of  God.  Spread  over 
France  a  people  like  the  old  Puritans,  —  let  every  pul- 
pit be  filled  with  kindred  spirits  to  Dr.  John  Owen, 
Dr.  Bates,  Mr.  Nye,  John  Bunyan,  Dr.  Watts,  Dr.  Ev- 
ans, Dr.  Doddridge,  —  and  representative  government  is 
the  only  practical  wisdom.  Nay,  I  will  go  further,  and 
confidently  add,  that  whereas  it  is  said  by  certain  rea- 
soners,  and  said  with  plausibility,  and,  as  I  think,  with 
much  truth,  that  progress  is  impeded  by  a  servile  de- 
votion to  the  dead  past,  our  revelations  are  in  the 
noble  future,  —  I  maintain  that  a  hampering  respect 
for  this  dead  past,  in  philosophy,  in  government,  in 
history,  in  political  economy,  is  best  prevented  by  a 
boundless  veneration  for  the  old  revelation.  It  is  the 
very  thing  to  make  us  free  in  all  the  other  lines  of 
thought ;  as,  if  I  am  approaching  a  dangerous  coast 
and  see  the  real  lighthouse  flaming  on  the  promon- 
tory, I  shall  not  be  deceived  by  the  little  flickering 
lights  which  are  found'  in  the  villages,  and  but  for  the 
contrast  might  be  mistaken  for  the  nobler  guide. 

The  Bible  teaches  a  moral  perfection,  and  shows  the 
inferiority  of  the  world  around  to  its  own  standard  ; 
hence  it  produces  the  love  of  innovation  in  everything 
except  its  own  principles.  Pascal,  Newton,  Boyle, — 


304  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

their  watchword  was,  submission  in  religion,  indepen- 
dence in  philosophy.  On  the  other  hand,  China  is  an 
example  of  the  most  doting  conservatism,  but  it  has 
no  Bible.  Nay,  in  the  inductive  philosophy  itself,  it  is 
a  kind  of  revelation  that  produces  the  free  investiga- 
tion. Galileo  despised  the  decrees  of  the  Church  and 
the  conclusions  of  the  old  philosophers,  because  he  saw 
the  certainty  of  the  laws  of  nature. 

THE    CLAIM  AND   THE   PROOF. 

BUT  are  we  to  believe  the  Scriptural  writers  inspired 
merely  because  they  claim  inspiration  ?  Is  not  this  to 
assume  the  very  point  to  be  proved  ?  Are  there  no 
false  pretences  under  the  mask  of  religion  ?  If  these 
holy  men  of  old  did  not  mean  to  deceive  others,  might 
they  not  be  deceived  themselves  ?  Yes ;  we  allow  it 
would  be  weak  reasoning  to  place  the  evidence  of  in- 
spiration on  their  own  claims.  The  true  proof  of  their 
inspiration  comes  from  the  general  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  the  Gospel.  The  two  things  are  inwoven  and 
cannot  be  separated.  It  is  not  my  purpose  here  to  go 
into  the  general  evidence  for  our  holy  religion.  But 
if  it  came  with  signs  from  heaven, — with  wonders,  with 
the  accomplishment  of  a  long  line  of  prophecies ;  if  the 
kingdom  of  God  was  early  predicted  and  long  expect- 
ed,—  nay,  was  always  found  to  some  extent  in  the 
world, —  and  was  the  only  fulfilment  of  an  intelligible 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  305 

design  in  the  universe ;  if  man  has  always  sighed  over 
the  inadequacy  of  his  earthly  existence,  and  panted  for 
something  nobler  and  better ;  and  if  the  Gospel  has 
filled  the  vacuum  and  met  his  wants,  —  then  its  general 
truth  is  inseparable  from  its  essential  record.  With- 
out a  reliable  record,  the  Gospel  would  be,  as  Florus 
says  of  Rome,  "  res  unius  aetatis."  St.  Paul,  in  the 
beginning  of  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  professes  to 
gather  his  knowledge  of  Judaism  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. He  sees  the  truth  of  its  facts  in  the  fidelity 
of  its  history.  " Separated,"  says  he,  "unto  the  Gospel 
of  God  ;  which  he  had  promised  afore  by  his  prophets 
in  the  HOLY  SCRIPTURES."  Christ,  in  Luke  xxiv.  44, 
appeals  to  the  sacred  record,  and  supposes  it  equally 
valid  in  his  age  as  when  first  given  :  "  And  he  said 
unto  them,  these  are  the  words  which  I  spake  unto  you, 
while  I  was  yet  with  you,  that  all  things  must  be  ful- 
filled which  were  written  in  the  law  of  Moses  and  in 
the  prophets  and  Psalms  concerning  me."  And  in  the 
next  verse  we  are  told,  "  Then  opened  he  their  under- 
standing, that  they  might  understand  the  Scriptures." 
Now  we  may  depend  upon  it,  that  this  reference  to  the 
Hebrew  books  implies  an  authority  adequate  to  prove 
the  prediction  of  Christ's  mission ;  and,  more  than  this, 
a  well-known  canon,  for  Christ  never  would  have  men- 
tioned the  record  in  this  loose  way,  (i.  e.  without  a 
specific  enumeration  of  the  books,)  had  not  the  canon 
been  settled  and  perfectly  well  known.  But  surely  if 

T 


806  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

the  old  religion  was  thus  linked  in  with  the  inspiration 
of  its  law,  prophets,  and  Psalms,  much  more  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  new,  so  essential  to  the  salvation  of  the  com- 
ing ages.  The  miracles,  the  prophecies,  the  internal 
evidences  of  the  Gospel,  the  grandeur  of  its  design,  and 
its  efficacy  on  the  nations  and  on  the  heart,  are  so 
many  proofs  of  the  inspiration  of  its  consecrated  books. 
Inspiration  is  one  of  the  necessary  concomitants ;  nay,  it 
is  an  all-important  one.  If  this  were  denied,  we  should 
be  compelled  to  say,  We  cannot  believe,  because  we 
cannot  know  the  Gospel.  As  we  now  stand  on  sim- 
ilar ground  as  to  relishing  the  beauties  of  Homer  with 
the  audience  of  the  old  rhapsodists  who  recited  his 
verses,  so  we  have  the  perfection  of  Christ  still  teach- 
ing us  through  inspiration.  It  is  a  great,  standing  mir- 
acle. The  proofs  are,  —  first,  the  book  answers  to  the 
alleged  design  ;  secondly,  the  history  of  its  preserva- 
tion is  satisfactory ;  thirdly,  translation  preserves  its 
essence,  —  it  was  prepared  to  pervade  all  careful  trans- 
lations ;  fourthly,  the  common  evidences  of  Christian- 
ity imply  and  prove  its  preservation  in  the  world. 

The  chief  part  of  the  dogmatic  Gospel  (i.  e.  its  prin- 
ciples, independent  of  its  facts)  was  written  by  the 
Apostle  Paul,  and  Paul  was  a  chosen  vessel.  (Acts 
ix.  15.) 

We  are  sufficiently  guarded  against  imposture.  When 
Moses  went  to  the  people,  he  gave  proof  of  his  com- 
mission (Exodus  iv.  30)  ;  he  gave  his  proof,  also,  to 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  307 

Pharaoh.  Christ,  also,  came  with  all  the  perfection  of 
his  teaching,  and  the  signs  and  wonders  which  accom- 
panied it.  The  Apostles,  also,  wherever  they  went,  car- 
ried their  proofs  with  them ;  the  voice  of  nature  was 
appealed  to,  conscience  and  her  moral  laws,  the  testi- 
mony of  the  soul,  as  Tertullian  calls  it,  the  coincidence 
of  all  the  parts  with  the  grand  design,  as  supporting 
the  assumption  that  they  came  with  a  message  from 
God.  They  assume  the  past  inspiration  of  their  great 
book,  and  they  prove  by  involution  the  future  inspira- 
tion. Indeed,  how  can  we  have  confidence  in  the  facts, 
and  not  believe  the  essential  conditions  of  perpetuity? 
"We  know  the  existence  of  the  distant  planet  by  the 
chain  of  beams  which  connect  the  glittering  orb  with 
the  observing  eye. 

Some  of  the  messages  of  the  prophets  were  probably 
never  delivered  to  the  idolatrous  people  addressed. 
The  burden  of  Babylon  in  Isaiah  xiii.,  the  address  to 
Moab  (ch.  xv.),  the  burden  of  Damascus  (ch.  xvii.),  the 
dark  message  in  chap,  xviii.,  the  burden  of  Egypt  (ch. 
xix.),  and  certainly  the  message  in  the  thirty-eighth 
chapter  of  Ezekiel,  never  reached  the  people  specified  ; 
they  were  probably  written  for  more  lasting  purposes ; 
they  were  a  sign  to  God's  ancient  Church  of  the  secu- 
rity of  his  protection,  and  the  terrible  ruin  that  await- 
ed his  enemies.  The  force  of  these  declarations  was 
ripened  by  time. 

Indeed,  the  first  verses  of  the   Epistle   to   the   He- 


308  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

brows  suggest  at  once  the  need  and  the  certainty  of 
inspiration.  "  God,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  di- 
vers manners  spake  in  time  past  unto  the  fathers  by 
the  prophets,  hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us 
by  his  Son,  whom  he  hath  appointed  heir  of  all  things, 
by  whom  also  he  made  the  worlds,"  &c.  It  is  not  an 
incident ;  it  is  the  essential  effluence  of  the  celestial 
light. 

I  do  not  say  —  let  me  be  understood  —  that  the 
prophets  and  Apostles  are  to  be  believed  because  they 
say  they  are  inspired  ;  but  I  contend  that  no  man  can 
suppose  they  were  the  accredited  organs  of  revelation 
to  one  age,  and  not  believe  they  are  the  same  to  all 
ages,  if  they  claim  it.  This  is  impossible.  We  may 
reject  them  totally,  and  then  we  are  infidels  ;  but  we 
cannot  receive  their  claims  in  one  department  and 
not  in  another  ;  for  suppose  a  man  to  make  to  us  a 
speech  which  we  believe  to  be  a  message  from  God, 
and  suppose  he  sends  the  same  speech  to  a  distant 
friend,  does  it  lose  its  authority  by  being  committed  to 
paper  ?  Inspiration  is  only  the  necessary  means  of  per- 
petuating to  all  ages  what  in  one  age,  or  in  various 
ages,  was  actually  done. 

The  proof,  then,  is  certain,  and  the  security  against 
delusion  is  complete.  (See  1  Corinthians  x.  11.)  God 
is  no  respecter  of  persons  ;  as  the  equity  of  law  de- 
mands that,  if  a  man  has  a  field,  he  shall  have  access 
to  his  field,  —  the  very  design  of  property  being  that 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  309 

we  might  use  it,  —  so  when  God  gives  his  own  in- 
struction to  mankind,  the  very  design  of  the  gift  im- 
plies its  preservation.  He  did  not  light  up  the  sun 
for  one  day  only.  Christ  is  the  Saviour  of  all  ages. 
Though  literally  crucified  at  Jerusalem,  he  was  set  forth 
as  crucified  among  the  Galatians  (Gal.  iii.  1.),  and 
through  the  immutable  record  to  all  mankind. 

This  high  view  of  Divine  inspiration  has  been  met 
with  many  objections,  as  indeed  what  truth  is  there 
to  which  objections  may  not  be  made  ?  It  is  said,  for 
example,  it  is  not  obvious  to  our  senses  and  not  known 
by  experience,  —  nostris  sensibus  haud  obvia  nee  per 
experientiam  co^nita^  —  and  this  may  be  said  of  the 
law  of  gravitation,  yet  its  laws  and  results  are  not  the 
less  certain.  It  does  not  impair  either  the  proofs  or 
the  benefits  of  Divine  instruction,  because  we  cannot 
define  exactly  how  the  spirit  moves  over  the  instructed 
mind.  If  I  see  a  signal  from  the  Admiral's  ship,  and 
know  the  sign,  it  is  not  of  the  smallest  importance 
to  me  how  they  hoisted  it  to  the  mast-head,  —  whether 
by  a  rope,  or  a  sailor  carried  it  up  and  nailed  it  to 
the  staff.  There  it  is,  flying  to  the  wind,  with  all  its 
significance.  Besides,  we  do  know,  in  some  degree,  the 
mode  ;  the  prophet  often  saw  emblems  in  visions  which 
were  interpreted  to  him.  The  incapacity  of  language  to 
be  a  vehicle  of  certain  instruction  —  its  vagueness  and 
uncertainty — has  been  objected  to  the  claims  of  inspi- 
ration. "There  is  no  man,"  says  Thomas  Paine,  "that 


310  THE    SUPPLEMENT. 

believes  in  revealed  religion  stronger  than  I  do." 
"  That  which  is  revelation  to  me  exists  in  something 
which  no  human  mind  can  invent;  no  human  hand 
can  counterfeit  or  alter.  The  word  of  God  is  the  cre- 
ation we  behold."  We  will  not  depreciate  the  light  of 
nature.  It  has  its  lesson,  and  speaks  the  builder,  God. 
But  surely  it  is  within  the  compass  of  the  infinite 
power  of  God,  if  he  can  make  himself  manifest  in  his 
works,  to  make  himself  understood  by  his  Word.  Why 
not  ?  Language  is  certainly  the  most  perfect  image  of 
our  reason.  Does  any  one  really  doubt  whether  Plato, 
Thucydides,  Cicero,  or  Tacitus,  notwithstanding  all  the 
dangers  of  ambiguity  in  language,  transcription,  &c., 
have  substantially  communicated  their  systems  and  their 
narratives  to  the  admiring  generations  which  have  fol- 
lowed them  ?  Much  has  been  said  about  translation ; 
that  the  authority  of  a  verbal  inspiration  is  lost  in  the 
first  translation.  They  do  not  consider,  with  respect 
to  the  adequacy  of  a  translation,  the  difference  of  sub- 
jects. Plato,  for  example,  in  some  of  his  dialogues,  is 
almost  untranslatable.  The  later  Platonists,  in  one 
point  of  view,  are  very  difficult  to  translate  ;  in  an- 
other, very  easy.  It  is  very  difficult  often  to  get  their 
exact  meaning  (if  they  had  any),  and,  in  another  view, 
it  is  very  easy  to  preserve  a  parallel  mysticism.  See 
the  writings  of  Emerson,  Bunsen,  Hegel,  Feuerbach, 
&c.,  on  whom  the  Alexandrine  mantle  has  fallen,  and 
whose  writings  (at  least  some  paragraphs,  nay,  whole 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  311 

chapters)  are  as  good  a  translation  as  the  dark  day 
in  1780  in  New  England  was  a  good  translation  of 
the  darkness  in  Egypt.  Poetry  and  eloquence,  Homer 
and  Cicero,  the  coloring  of  the  imagination,  the  force 
of  satire  and  the  niceties  of  manners,  are  not  easily 
represented.  A  work  on  law,  a  statute,  are  easy.  Eu- 
clid is  as  perfect  in  English  as  in  the  original.  The 
question  is,  Where  do  the  topics  of  revelation  rank  as 
to  the  facility  and  perfection  with  which  they  can  be 
presented  in  a  modern  version  ? 

Now  it  is  curious  to  see  the  provisions  made  by  the 
wisdom  of  God,  to  make  his  Word,  like  his  sun,  a 
common  light.  The  Hebrew  language  had  reached 
that  development  above  the  hieroglyphic,  above  the 
Chinese,  below  the  Greek  delicacy,  whose  finer  shad- 
ings  are  hard  to  preserve,  —  it  had  reached  a  develop- 
ment to  which  every  other  tongue  looks  back  as  a  stand- 
point. It  is  the  most  translatable  language  in  the 
world.  Then  its  subject  is  the  most  simple  elements 
of  moral  thought,  —  God,  hope,  fear,  repentance,  faith, 
love,  obedience,  heaven  and  hell,  —  eternal  ideas  and 
eternally  recurring.  Its  writers,  instead  of  appealing  to 
a  metaphysical  background,  as  modern  theologians  are 
too  fond  of  doing,  appeal  to  a  sacred  history,  —  a  body 
of  facts  which  shed  light  on  every  principle.  They 
appeal,  also,  to  our  inner  breasts,  the  active  and  pas- 
sive elements  of  our  moral  being.  Then,  as  Lowth  ob- 
serves, "  the  Hebrews  not  only  deduce  their  metaphors 


312  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

from  familiar  or  well-known  objects,  but  preserve  one 
constant  track  and  manner  in  the  use  and  accommo- 
dation of  them."  In  Lect.  VI.  he  instances  the  case  of 
light  and  darkness  used  for  prosperity  and  adversity. 
Then  the  Bible  avoids  the  ambiguity  of  an  abstract, 
single  word;  the  passions  are  often  pictured, —  as  re- 
pentance in  Psalm  li.,  gratitude  in  Psalm  ciii.,  adora- 
tion in  Psalm  civ.  The  omnipresence  of  God  is  pic- 
tured in  Psalm  cxxxix.,  and  his  majesty  and  his  mercy 
in  Isaiah  xl.  Who  can  doubt  that  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis  is  adequate  in  all  the  translations  ?  "In  the 
beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth  ;  " — 
what  an  important  preparation  for  the  whole  book, 
and  how  easily  transferred  to  every  tongue  and  people 
through  the  whole  earth  !  The  Apocalypse  is  a  very 
curious  book,  —  so  very  dark,  and  yet  almost  nothing 
depends  on  the  translation.  The  emblems  are  the 
same,  in  Greek,  English,  Mohawk,  or  Irish.  Wherever 
there  is  a  material  similitude,  there  is  to  be  found  an 
adequate  word.  In  fine,  a  wonderful  provision  is  made 
to  produce  an  identity  of  instruction  amidst  a  diversity 
of  translation.  Dip  the  water  of  the  river  of  life  in 
any  vase,  wood,  glass,  marble,  gold,  Wedgewood  ware, 
or  terra-cotta  vessels,  it  is  still  the  water  of  the  river 
of  life.  No  such  sample  of  predominant  thought  over 
every  form  of  language  is  found  (out  of  the  mathe- 
matics) in  all  the  writings  of  antiquity.  It  seems  like 
the  foresight  of  its  Author. 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  313 

It  is  surely  an  idle  question  to  ask  of  such  a  book, 
coming  from  such  a  source,  whether  the  inspiration 
was  verbal.  Here  is  an  omniscient  God,  who  fore- 
knows all  contingencies,  and  without  whom  a  sparrow 
does  not  fall  to  the  ground ;  he  selects  his  chosen  ves- 
sel —  Paul,  for  example  —  to  communicate  his  revela- 
tion to  mankind.  He  knows  his  instrument,  he  knows 
his  turn  of  thought ;  he  encompasses  his  path  while  he 
is  writing,  and  surveys  the  work  when  it  is  done.  All 
contingencies  fulfil  his  design.  Now,  with  such  an 
inspirer,  and  such  an  instrument,  can  there  be  any 
questioning  as  to  the  perfection  of  the  work  ? 

THE    CANON. 

A  WORD  must  be  said  respecting  the  canon  of  Scrip- 
ture. The  word  canon  means  a  rule ;  and  when  ap- 
plied to  Scripture,  it  means  that  authorized  list  or 
catalogue  of  the  books  truly  inspired  and  having  Di- 
vine authority.  How  was  that  list  formed,  and  whence 
did  it  derive  its  authority  ?  Every  one  sees,  if  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  inspiration  pervading  certain  sepa- 
rate compositions,  they  must  form  an  important  class ; 
they  must  differ  from  other  books,  as  a  constellation 
differs  from  a  collection  of  lamps  hung  up  in  a  tree 
in  an  illuminated  garden.  They  are  likely  to  have 
much  to  distinguish  them,  as  Divine  wisdom,  subject, 
manner,  purity,  authority,  influence,  testimony  ;  and  as 
14 


314  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

successive  ages  have  agreed  in  not  confounding  the 
stars  of  heaven  with  illuminating  lamps,  so  earnest  men 
would  be  likely  to  mark  with  definite  limits  the  books 
that  guided  their  faith  and  imparted  their  consolation. 
The  objective,  i.  e.  the  real  existence  of  such  books, 
acting  on  collective  observation,  would  create  a  law.  It 
is  well  known  there  was  a  controversy  between  the  Pa- 
pists and  Protestants  concerning  the  formation  of  the 
Canon.  The  Papists  said  —  desirous  of  supporting  ec- 
clesiastical power  —  that  the  canon  depended  solely  on 
the  authority  of  the  Church.  "  I  should  have  no  more 
faith,"  said  one  of  their  writers,  "  in  Matthew  than  in 
Titus  Livy,  were  he  not  sanctioned  by  Church  author- 
ity ;  "  and  they  quoted  the  famous  saying  of  Augustine: 
"  Non  crederem  Evangelistis  nisi  auctoritas  Ecclesiae 
me  ad  id  faciendum  commoveret," — "  I  should  not  be- 
lieve the  Evangelists,  unless  the  authority  of  the  Church 
moved  me ; "  —  and  again  :  "  Auctoritas  librorum  nos- 
trum confirmata  est,  per  successionem  Apostolorum, 
episcoporum,  et  conciliorum,"  — "  The  authority  of  our 
books  is  confirmed  by  the  successive  judgments  of  Apos- 
tles, bishops,  and  councils."  From  this  position  the 
Protestants  started  back ;  they  were  afraid  of  the  con- 
sequences ;  they  charged  the  Papists  with  reasoning  in 
a  circle.  You  say  the  Scriptures  depend  on  the  author- 
ity of  the  Church :  must  not  the  Church  depend  for 
its  authority  on  the  Scriptures  ?  The  Protestants  put 
the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  on  the  private  spirit ; 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  315 

that  is,  on  the  enlightened  reason  of  every  good  man, 
who  felt  that  every  sacred  book  spoke  with  a  peculiar 
power ;  and  here  the  Papists  in  turn  charged  them 
with  absurdity.  For,  said  they,  if  you  are  enlightened 
enough  to  know  which  book  is  Scripture,  you  do  not 
want  its  information;  and  if  not,  how  do  you  know 
that  it  is  the  Word  of  God  ?  (See  Andrew  Rivet's 
Summa  Controversarum,  Yol.  I.  p.  206.) 

The  fact  is,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  contro- 
versy, which  has  long  since  become  obsolete.  The  ques- 
tion lay  deeper  in  the  recesses  of  fact  than  either  party 
saw.  It  was  not  the  authority  of  the  Church  alone 
that  settled  the  sacred  canon, — though  the  Church 
must  have  been  the  chief  depositary  of  these  impor- 
tant writings, —  but  it  was  the  influence  of  the  Church 
acting  on  the  broad  surface  of  human  opinion,  and  all 
the  laws  of  influence  and  probability  that  govern  it. 
Just  as  the  Jews  were  a  chosen  nation,  to  whom  were 
committed  the  oracles  of  God  (Romans  iii.  2),  and  our 
Saviour  without  the  least  hesitation  says,  "  They  have 
Moses  and  the  prophets "  (Luke  xvi.  29)  ;  and  again, 
"  Search  the  Scriptures"  (John  v.  39),  a  perfectly  well- 
known  catalogue  of  books.  The  Jews  had  no  difficulty 
in  knowing  what  these  Scriptures  were  ;  nay,  in  verses 
forty-sixth  and  forty-seventh  of  this  chapter,  he  equals 
the  writings  of  Moses  in  point  of  authority  to  his  own 
personal  presence.  For  had  ye  "  believed  Moses,  ye 
would  have  believed  me ;  for  he  wrote  of  me.  But  if 


316  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

ye  believe  not  his  writings,  how  shall  ye  believe   my 
words  ?  " 

Moses  lived  about  1500  years  before  Christ;  and  if 
the  old  canon  is  not  questioned  by  our  great  teacher, 
preserved  as  it  was  through  the  long  period,  the  insu- 
lated literature,  and  the  various  commotions  and  cap- 
tivities of  the  Jews,  how  much  more  have  we  reason 
to  trust  the  new  canon,  formed  as  it  was  in  a  com- 
paratively enlightened  age,  quoted  by  a  host  of  friends 
and  enemies,  loved,  hated,  assaulted,  defended,  and 
producing  such  a  thrilling  interest  amongst  mankind. 
Consider  the  law  ;  here  is  a  short  list  of  books,  con- 
sisting of  narratives,  letters,  and  prophecies,  written, 
as  one  party  believe,  not  by  Plato  or  Homer,  but  in- 
dited by  the  Supreme  Wisdom,  by  which  thousands 
live,  and  for  which  they  are  ready  to  die,  (and  numbers 
did  die,)  faith  in  which  perpetuates  the  instruction  of 
their  Saviour,  and  constitutes  the  hope  of  their  salva- 
tion ;  these  books  are  written  in  a  style  as  different 
from  other  writers  as  the  addresses  of  Bonaparte  to 
his  soldiers  differ  from  the  style  of  Dr.  Johnson.  Now 
is  it  wonderful  that  the  laws  of  human  action,  among 
friends  and  foes,  should  mark  the  books  and  hand 
them  untainted  (as  to  their  substantial  parts)  to  fu- 
ture ages  ?  There  is  no  wonder  about  it ;  it  is  what 
the  world  has  done  for  Plato,  for  Cicero,  and  even 
for  Mahomet  himself,  —  or  whosever  genius  it  is  that 
reigns  in  the  Koran. 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  31T 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  sacred  writers 
formed  a  school,  actuated,  as  they  claimed,  by  one  ob- 
ject and  having  one  aim,  —  to  enlighten  the  world. 
"  I  am  a  debtor,"  says  one  of  them,  "  both  to  the 
Greeks  and  Barbarians ;  both  to  the  wise  and  unwise ; 
so  as  much  as  in  me  is,  I  am  ready  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  you  that  are  at  Rome  also."  (Romans  i. 
14,  15.)  To  this  people,  to  whom  the  Apostle  was  so 
ready  to  preach,  he  sent  an  elaborate  epistle ;  it  is  a 
kind  of  system  of  his  divinity.  It  was  addressed,  no 
doubt,  through  Romans,  to  all  mankind ;  for  he  says 
(Colossiaris  iv.  16)  :  "  When  this  Epistle  is  read  among 
you,  cause  it  to  be  read  also  in  the  Church  of  the 
Laodiceans,  and  that  ye  likewise  read  the  Epistle  from 
Laodicea."  The  Epistles  from  such  a  sacred  hand,  no 
doubt,  had  a  cyclical  character ;  and  if  they  were  what 
they  claimed  to  be,  and  if  human  nature  was  then 
what  it  is  now,  both  in  believers  and  unbelievers,  there 
is  no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  the  discriminating  ven- 
eration with  which  the  writing  was  preserved ;  for  love 
never  forgets,  hatred  never  forgets. 

God  made  a  promise  to  preserve  his  Church,  —  to 
found  it  on  a  rock,  and  that  the  gates  of  hell  should 
never  prevail  against  it.  (Matthew  xvi.  18.)  Now,  if 
we  look  at  this  promise,  or  the  law  by  which  he  prob- 
ably executed  it,  we  discern  the  way  in  which  the  canon 
was  known.  The  design  of  revelation,  also,  seems  to 
warrant  a  similar  confidence.  The  Gospel  is  not  a 


318  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

gift  for  a  passing  generation  ;  a  written  language  is 
not  less  certain  than  a  spoken  discourse.  If  Christ 
promised  his  disciples,  when  brought  before  councils, 
to  give  them  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  (Matthew  x. 
20,  "  It  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  your 
Father  that  speaketh  in  you,")  we  may  well  conclude 
that,  when  they  gave  instruction  for  all  ages,  the  in- 
spiring spirit  would  not  forsake  them. 

It  is  observed  by  Thomas  Paine,  "  The  Councils  of 
Nice  and  Laodicea  were  held  about  350  years  after 
the  time  Christ  is  said  to  have  lived,  and  the  books 
that  now  compose  the  New  Testament  were  then  voted 
for  by  yeas  and  nays,  as  we  now  vote  a  law.  A  great 
many  that  were  offered  had  a  majority  of  nays,  and 
were  rejected.  This  is  the  way  the  New  Testament 
came  into  being."  No  doubt  these  councils  might  be 
atoms  among  the  causes  that  settled  the  canon.  But 
had  the  Church  been  strictly  one,  had  these  councils 
been  strictly  oecumenical,  had  no  one  rejected  their 
authority,  it  is  obvious  that  legislation  follows,  rather 
than  makes  public  opinion.  Had  not  public  opinion 
uttered  its  voice,  the  Laodicean  Council  could  not  have 
spoken.  They  were  the  very  organ  of  their  own  age. 

The  fact  that  some  books  had  a  suspended  claim 
before  they  were  received  is  significant.  It  is  well 
known  that,  in  Eusebius's  canon,  the  Second  Epistle 
of  Peter,  the  Second  and  Third  Epistles  of  John,  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  and  the  Apocalypse,  are  num- 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  319 

bered  among  the  books  to  which  objections  were  made ; 
but  these  objections  were  overcome,  and  the  books 
ultimately  received.  Two  inferences  may  be  made 
from  this  fact :  the  care  and  deliberation  with  which 
the  canonical  question  was  considered,  —  the  delibera- 
tion was  careful  and  conscientious ;  and,  secondly,  the 
strong  objections  are  greatly  diminished,  perhaps  en- 
tirely removed  from  the  books,  by  their  ultimate  recep- 
tion. At  any  rate,  were  they  rejected,  it  would  not 
alter  the  foundation  of  the  Gospel. 

The  preservation  of  the  Apocryphal  books,  both  those 
often  bound  in  our  common  Bibles  between  the  two 
Testaments,  and  the  Apostolic  Fathers,  translated  and 
published  by  Archbishop  Wake,  is  a  remarkable  fact, 
and  serves,  I  think,  an  important  purpose.  As  to  the 
Apocrypha  of  the  Old  Testament  (commonly  called  by 
the  name  Apocrypha),  it  serves  the  same  purpose  that 
a  counterfeit  bill  does  when  compared  with  a  true  one. 
The  very  existence  of  this  collection  (i.  e.  the  Apocry- 
pha) starts  a  question  in  the  common  mind  which  we 
must  look  at.  "  The  Church,"  says  Jerome,  "  reads 
them  for  edification,  but  does  not  receive  them  as  in- 
spired." But  how  is  this  ?  How  can  these  books  hold 
this  middle  place  ?  If  they  are  forgeries,  why  are  they 
not  indignantly  rejected  ?  and  if  they  have  any  author- 
ity, why  are  they  not  reverentially  regarded  as  divine  ? 
What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  ?  This  natural  ques- 
tion demands  an  answer.  First,  there  is  no  proof  that 


320  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

the  books  were  intentional  forgeries ;  secondly,  they  are 
so  linked  in  with  real  Scripture,  that  they  serve  the 
important  purpose  of  illustrating  it ;  they  were  most 
of  them  written  before  the  time  of  our  Saviour,  and 
have  been  preserved  by  the  special  providence  of  God. 
Thus  the  First  Book  of  Maccabees  is  real  history,  —  is 
the  only  real  history  of  the  period ;  for  Josephus  owes 
his  information  to  it,  and  it  is  necessary  to  illustrate 
the  fulfilment  of  an  important  part  of  Daniel's  proph- 
ecies. Paul  probably  alludes  to  it  in  Hebrews  xi.  37, 
38  :  "  They  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asunder,  were 
tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword ;  they  wandered 
about  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins,  being  destitute, 
afflicted,  tormented  (of  whom  the  world  was  not  wor- 
thy), they  wandered  in  deserts  and  in  mountains,  and 
in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth."  It  is  our  only  au- 
thentic record  for  verifying  these  portions  of  acknowl- 
edged inspiration.  Then  the  beautiful  books  of  the 
Wisdom  of  Solomon  and  the  Wisdom  of  the  Son  of 
Sirach,  are  like  the  second  rainbow  on  the  cloud, 
whose  diluted  lustre  must  be  compared  with  its  brighter 
origin.  They  bear  all  the  marks  of  a  redundant  imi- 
tation. The  story  of  Bel  and  the  Dragon,  cut  off  from 
the  end  of  Daniel,  though  childish  enough,  is  an  ex- 
pressive picture  of  priestcraft.  But  the  great  use  of 
the  Apocrypha  is  to  give  us  A  CONTRAST  ;  to  give  us 
an  imitation  that  cannot  reach  its  original ;  to  show 
what  the  Jewish  genius  was  without  the  leading-strings 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  321 

of  inspiration.  Thus  the  story  of  Judith  is  the  painted 
paradise  of  a  Jewish  imagination,  suggested  by  real 
history,  exaggerated  by  their  own  unregulated  fancy, — 
the  ideal  heroism  that  floated  before  the  minds  of  a 
people  inured  to  'captivity  and  unfamiliar  with  con- 
quest. Had  the  Old  Testament  been  a  myth,  as  the 
destructives  say,  it  would  probably  have  been  in  the 
same  style  as  the  Book  of  Judith.  Even  the  highest 
flights  of  Jewish  wisdom,  improved  as  it  was  in  the 
Alexandrine  school,  as  seen  in  the  beautiful  composi- 
tions, the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  and  the  Wisdom  of  the 
Son  of  Sirach,  (and  they  are  beautiful,  and  in  some 
respects  more  artistically  beautiful  than  the  Proverbs 
themselves,)  yet  these  remarkable  books  reflect  light 
on  the  authority  of  real  revelation ;  for,  first,  they  are 
manifest  imitations ;  they  both  draw  their  character 
from  the  old  Proverbs  of  Solomon  ;  secondly,  they  are 
too  eloquent ;  they  lack  the  majestic  simplicity  of  their 
prototype  ;  thirdly,  they  are  too  subtile,  too  refined,  too 
much  human  speculation ;  fourthly,  they  are  mani- 
festly tinged  with  Platonism,  nay,  the  mysticism  of  the 
Alexandrine  school;  and,  lastly,  one  of  the  authors 
allows  that  he  is  one  09  avw^prjo-e  crofyiav  CLTTO  /cap- 
S/a?  avrov,  that  poured  out  wisdom  from  his  own  heart. 
Thus  both  the  baldness  and  the  excellence  of  these 
books  (it  seems  to  me  —  it  is  a  matter  of  taste)  serve  to 
reflect  light  on  the  Scriptures.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  the  Epistles  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers,  —  some  more 


322  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

mean  and  despicable  while  others  rise  to  a  higher  rank ; 
—  but  the  best  of  them,  the  First  Epistle  of  Clement 
to  the  Corinthians,  serves  to  show  the  Divine  finger- 
marked line ;  for  what  is  it  ?  A  cento  of  quotations 
from  other  scriptures  ;  it  is  conscious  weakness  leaning 
on  previous  strength.  We  have  in  Eusebius  an  alleged 
Epistle  from  Christ  to  Abgarus,  king  of  Edessa ;  and 
it  is  written  with  all  the  marks  of  an  author  conscious 
of  his  task,  and  conscious  of  his  inability  to  execute 
it.  It  is  wisely  short ;  and  the  writer  walks  in  cramp- 
ing-irons.  In  a  word,  these  feeble  and  even  better 
imitations  show  the  unapproachable  character  of  their 
pattern.  The  greatest  minds  (and  much  more  the 
poorest)  are  often  thrown  into  a  condition  when  their 
selected  work  chills  them  and  imposes  a  want  of  spon 
taneity ;  just  as  Milton,  when  he  puts  speeches  into 
the  mouth  of  God  the  Father,  or  God  the  Son,  loses 
the  ease  of  his  own  boundless  invention,  and  makes 
them  talk  the  sentiments  of  the  most  established  the- 
ology. 

"  Milton's  strong  pinions  now  to  Heaven  can  bound, 
Now,  serpent-like,  in  prose  he  sweeps  the  ground ; 
In  quibbles  angels  and  archangels  join, 
And  God  the  Father  turns  a  school-divine."  —  POPE. 

It  is  often  said,  that,  because  we  find  the  books  of 
the  canonical  Scripture  bound  up  in  one  volume,  it 
is  no  proof  that  they  are  all  inspired ;  they  are  a  col- 
lection of  pamphlets,  each  to  be  examined  and  each 


THE  SUPPLEMENT.  323 

standing  on  its  own  merits.  It  must  be  allowed  that 
the  mere  fact  of  these  books  being  collected  into  one 
volume  is  of  small  importance.  But  it  is  not  a  mere 
fact;  it  is  a  significant  fact;  it  is  a  fact  which  has  a 
cause,  —  a  chain  of  causes ;  and  it  expresses  a  result 
which  is  vastly  important.  As  the  geologist  finds  in  a 
certain  location  a  piece  of  conglomerate  rock,  and  from 
its  structure  argues  the  causes  of  various  periods,  the 
origin  of  the  harder  rock,  its  separation,  its  rolling  for 
ages  on  the  shore,  its  being  imbedded,  and  the  har- 
dening of  the  imbedding  formation,  so  the  reflecting 
mind  takes  up  the  Bible  and  asks  the  history  of  its 
formation.  Why  are  these  books  always  printed  to- 
gether? and  whence  come  their  union  and  authority? 
In  that  simple  fact  (i.  e.  being  enclosed  in  the  same 
covers)  there  is  the  discussion  of  ages ;  there  is  the 
testimony  of  the  Church,  the  objections  of  her  enemies, 
the  cross-examinations  of  later  literature,  the  investi- 
gations of  Origen,  Jerome,  Augustine,  Erasmus,  Luther, 
Calvin,  and  the  later  critics ;  and,  finally,  the  decision 
of  the  thinking  world  on  a  question  in  which  they  are 
most  deeply  interested.  The  union  is  significant ;  and 
one  is  tempted  almost  to  excuse  some  of  the  old  Pu- 
ritans, in  their  popular  works,  when  they  slid  over  the 
question  of  the  canon,  and  argued  for  the  authority  of 
the  Bible  as  if  it  had  always  been  one  book.  The  fact 
is,  its  parts  flow  together  with  a  sublime  unity,  if  not 
always  with  a  dove-tailed  exactness.  The  minute  dis- 


324  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

crepancies  do  not  impair ;  they  rather  serve  to  show 
more  strikingly  its  one  reigning1  spirit. 

Thus  we  see  that  everything  in  the  Christian  reve- 
lation tends  to  bring  human  guilt  and  ignorance  in 
contact  with  divine  purity  and  teaching.  God  is  THE 
ONLY  WISE  ;  and  his  voice  is  heard  in  nature  only 
when  it  is  interpreted  by  revelation.  Without  this  in- 
terpretation, IT  thunders,  IT  rains ;  but  when  God  is 
disclosed,  then  "  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  powerful ; 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty.  The  voice 
of  the  Lord  breaketh  the  cedars ;  yea,  the  Lord  break- 
eth  the  cedars  of  Lebanon.  The  Lord  is  upon  many 
waters."  (Psalm  xxix.  4,  5.) 

I  have  spoken  of  the  destructive  interpreters.  The 
reader  may  wish  to  know  who  they  are.  They  are  men 
who  boast  of  a  free  inquiry ;  some  of  them  have  great 
learning ;  but  all  their  investigations  tend  to  diminish 
our  veneration  for  the  sacred  Scriptures,  and  look  to 
other  sources  for  direction  in  piety  and  wisdom.  They 
are  such  men  as  Paulus,  Strauss,  Theodore  Parker,  &c. 
Their  path  is  always  a  free  one,  but  it  never  returns 
to  the  veneration  of  the  past. 

The  reigning  sophisms  in  all  their  speculations  on 
the  Bible  are  two :  — 

]?irst,  assuming  tacitly  their  point  that  the  Bible  is 
not  a  Divine  revelation ;  that  it  comes  from  the  old 
mistake,  the  mythic  spirit,  which  they  say  is  the  com- 
mon genius  of  antiquity. 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  325 

Second,  seeing  and  showing  all  the  conformities  to 
their  assumption,  and  not  seeing  or  reducing  to  a 
minimum  all  the  discrepancies.  Here  they  are  truly 
ingenious.  They  never  see  the  golden  thread,  the  Di- 
vine unity,  the  unfolding  design  which  runs  through 
the  Old  Testament  and  the  New,  which  shows  the  har- 
mony in  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  sun  itself  would 
probably  lose  its  lustre  if  shivered  into  fragments. 

The  difficulties  arise  when  each  incident  is  torn 
apart  from  the  general  design  and  history.  Spots  on 
the  sun  can  only  be  estimated  when  seen  in  the  sun. 
Suppose  I  assume  that  a  miracle  is  impossible,  or  make 
a  maxim  that  what  is  impossible  (by  impossible  mean- 
ing some  event  which  flows  not  from  some  regular 
law  of  nature)  is  not  to  be  believed ;  of  course  my 
rule  of  interpreting  becomes  affected  by  my  assump- 
tion. Or  suppose  I  assume  that  inspiration  is  only  the 
natural  impetus  of  genius  ;  of  course,  I  shall  read  every 
page  discolored  by  my  theory.  Every  logician  throws 
his  conclusion  into  his  major  proposition.  This  is 
sound  logic,  but  often  bad  reasoning.  How  different 
all  this  is  from  the  wants  of  a  humble  sinner  going  to 
his  master  for  instruction  and  rest ! 

In  one  way  these  destructives  bear  a  strong  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  they  oppose.  Somehow  or  other, 
sooner  or  later,  thay  postulate  to  themselves  the  very 
authority  they  deny  to  the  Bible.  They  feel  the  need 
of  divine  instruction,  and  they  find  it  in  their  own 


326  THE   SUPPLEMENT. 

self-assumed,  adequate  conceptions  of  God.  They  care 
riot  what  he  says,  because  they  know  what  he  must 
say.  They  often  begin  very  modestly  by  saying,  of  cer- 
tain doctrines  on  the  surface  of  Scripture,  we  know 
that  they  cannot  be  true  ;  they  are  inconsistent  with 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Deity.  This  incon- 
sistency is  a  question  which  we  can  judge.  For  exam- 
ple, the  justice  of  eternal  punishment, —  this  is  incon 
sistent  with  all  our  moral  apprehensions  of  justice.  We 
know  God  enough  to  know  he  cannot  create  a  being 
to  be  forever  miserable.  "We  know  Divine  justice 
enough  to  know  that  such  a  terrible  penalty  cannot  be 
consistent  with  it.  But,  ah  !  my  enlightened  friend,  if 
you  know  this,  you  know  a  great  deal  more.  How  can 
you  stop  there  ?  You  have  taken  into  your  hand  a  most 
difficult  question,  and,  by  analogy,  it  draws  a  whole  se- 
ries of  questions  after  it.  You  have  entered  the  circle 
of  celestial  light ;  you  have  got  behind  the  eternal 
throne.  Hence  the  destructives,  having  taken  this 
ground,  boldly  go  on.  Hence  Kant  says :  "  Religion 
is  (subjectively  considered)  the  acknowledgment  of  all 
our  duties  as  Divine  commands."  In  the  same  spirit 
Fichte  says :  "  Since  all  religion  sets  forth  God  only 
as  a  moral  lawgiver,  all  that  is  not  commanded  by  the 
moral  law  within  us  is  not  his,  and  there  is  no  means 
of  pleasing  him  except  by  the  observance  of  this  moral 
law."  (Hansel's  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,  p.  239, 
notes.) 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  327 

Even  the  modest  and  sober  Dr.  Channing,  in  his 
Moral  Argument  against  Calvinism,  assumes,  I  think, 
if  we  examine  it  narrowly,  this  formula :  God  can  give 
us  no  commands  which  do  not  conform  to  the  previous 
dictates  of  our  moral  nature.  And  Theodore  Parker, 
the  Marshal  Ney  of  the  religious  world,  the  bravest 
of  the  brave,  says  with  an  untrembling  consistency : 
"  This  we  know,  that  the  Infinite  God  must  be  a  per- 
fect Creator,  the  sole  and  undisturbed  Author  of  all 

that  is  in   nature Now   a   perfect  motive   for 

creation,  what  will  that  be  ?  It  must  be  absolute  love, 
producing  a  desire  to  bless  everything  which  he  creates. 
If  God  be  infinite,  then  he  must  make  and  adminis- 
ter the  world  from  perfect  motives,  for  a  perfect  pur- 
pose, and  as  a  perfect  means,  all  tending  to  the  ulti- 
mate and  absolute  blessedness  of  each  thing  he  directly 
or  mediately  creates;  the  world  must  be  administered 
so  as  to  achieve  that  purpose  for  each  thing.  Else 
God  has  made  some  things  from  a  motive  and  for  a 
purpose  not  benevolent,  or  as  a  means  not  adequate  to 
the  benevolent  purpose.  These  suppositions  are  at  vari- 
ance with  the  nature  of  the  Infinite  God.  I  do  not  see 
how  this  benevolent  purpose  can  be  accomplished  un- 
less all  animals  are  immortal  and  find  retribution  in 
another  life."  (Theism,  Atheism,  and  the  Popular 
Theology,  pp.  108,  109.)  This  assumption  is  well  an- 
swered by  Plato  ;  he  traces  knowledge  to  the  one  and 
the  many,  —  that  is,  the  all-inclusive  one  and  the  all- 


328  THE  SUPPLEMENT. 

included  many, —  in  other  words,  the  archetypal  world, 
all  whose  ideas  are  perfect,  clear,  and  fixed.  But  this 
philosophy  postulates  omniscience  ;  for  everything  is 
related  to  all  things,  and  it  cannot  be  understood  in 
its  relations  until  all  things  are  known. 

Take  your  choice,  then.  You  need  infallible  teach- 
ing ;  you  need  certainty;  that  is,  you  need  faith.  Men 
seek  it  somewhere.  They  find  it  either  in  an  infalli- 
ble book,  or  an  infallible  pontiff,  or  their  own  infallible 
minds.  The  worst  idolatry  we  can  be  guilty  of  is  to 
set  up  our  own  partial  knowledge  as  a  substitute  for 
omniscience. 

Let  us  then  restore  this  holy  book  to  the  supremacy 
it  once  held,  and  which  it  must  hold  when  religion 
lives  in  the  earth.  Religion  rests  on  authority ;  our 
ignorance  of  lower  causes  drives  us  to  the  first ;  we 
depend  on  the  Bible,  not  only  for  the  instruction  it 
imparts,  but  for  the  veneration,  the  quickening  power 
it  gives  to  the  soul.  The  Bible  has  not  only  words, 
but  charmed  words  ;  and  approaches  our  natures  with 
the  boundless  variety  which  different  ages  and  disposi- 
tions require. 

If  the  book  here  translated  does  not  meet  the 
wants  of  any  particular  reader,  he  needs  not  pro- 
nounce it  superfluous.  Divine  truth  has  many  other 
forms.  Let  us  decide  the  question  whether  we  have 
a  Divine  authority  to  walk  by  or  not.  Let  us  have 
no  half-rule ;  let  us  think  what  a  thrill  of  attention 


THE   SUPPLEMENT.  329 

and  fear  would  pass  through  the  soul,  what  a  charm 
would  attend  the  reading  of  the  Divine  Word,  what 
a  glory  would  gild  the  sacred  page,  if  we  could  re- 
store the  sacred  impression  felt  when  the  glad  mes- 
sage was  first  brought  from  Heaven  to  man  !  Our 
faith  would  then  be  operative,  because  it  would  have 
something  to  rest  on ;  and  "  the  Word  of  God  would 
be  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  a  two-edged 
sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul 
and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and  would 
prove  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
heart."  (Hebrews  iv.  12.) 


THE    END. 


Cambridge  :    Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


14  DAY  USE 

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